It was raining again in the evening.
The rain was light, and the people of Fu Village didn’t pay much attention to these mere droplets. Looking around, let alone plastic coverings, I saw that barely any people were wearing bamboo hats.
Ding Xi took his toothbrush cup and went to brush his teeth at the water-side platform next to the boat house.
The day had passed uneventfully. Yi Sa had taken her boat to Chen Tu’s place early in the morning for breakfast. It was then that Ding Xi learned that she spent most of her time drifting outside, staying in Fu Village for less than a month each year when all days were added up. Therefore, she didn’t maintain a kitchen at home. She either paid for meals at Chen Tu’s or bought from the “meal boats” – there were people in Fu Village who specifically ran food businesses, carrying hot pots of food on their boats during mealtimes, paddling along the waterways while calling out to sell. Their pots usually contained porridge, soup with rice, or rice noodles. Whoever wanted to buy would come out with a bowl to get a ladle-full.
After breakfast, she played cards with Chen Tu and Li Zhenxiang, gambling small amounts. The stakes weren’t high, and everyone had their wins and losses. They would pause when someone came to see Chen Tu for medical treatment or to buy medicine.
Ding Xi coldly observed this card game from the side for the entire morning.
In the afternoon, she went to the deep part of the lake to release Wu Gui.
Ding Xi went along too. It wasn’t tiring work, as Wu Gui would dive for food on its own.
Usually, when fishermen release cormorants, it’s for fishing. They put a ring around the cormorant’s neck to prevent it from swallowing the fish. This way, even if the fish goes down, it can’t reach the stomach but gets stuck at the ring, allowing the fisherman to squeeze it out by pressing the neck.
But Wu Gui wasn’t a domesticated animal working for humans – it could eat as much as it wanted, with no need for a ring.
Ding Xi witnessed Wu Gui’s ferocity for the first time. It would dive deep into the lake waters, and not long after, a large fish would be thrown up above the water’s surface. Before the fish could fall back, Wu Gui would already emerge from the water, open its large mouth, and swallow the fish whole without chewing.
This was a clear demonstration of nature’s cruel predation.
Sometimes, when the fish was too large, Ding Xi would watch Wu Gui’s gradually swelling neck with concern, worried it might choke to death. He would even feel discomfort in his own throat in sympathy.
Yi Sa handed him a thin tobacco stem: “Haven’t seen this before? No Wu Gui on the Yellow River?”
Ding Xi wasn’t quite sure: “They’re more common in the south, I heard they prefer places that don’t freeze over.”
He didn’t know what the tobacco stem was for, but seeing Yi Sa chew it in her mouth, he followed suit.
However, he couldn’t quite accept the taste, just as he subconsciously found Yi Sa difficult to warm up to, maintaining an instinctive vigilance against her.
This was largely due to regional prejudices and xenophobia.
Because he had heard since childhood that she grew up along the Lancang River.
The Lancang River originates in the Zaduo region of Qinghai, where the altitude is high and the climate harsh. The thin silver stream crawls across the ground like a reptile, but amazingly, it grows increasingly wider and deeper, eventually forming several world-renowned mighty rivers.
The first is the Yangtze River, the second is the Yellow River, and the third is the Lancang River.
Thus, people call the area near Zaduo the “Three Rivers’ Source,” meaning these three rivers share the same origin.
The Yangtze and Yellow Rivers, being Asia’s first and second longest rivers respectively, flow through China’s heartland and are considered inland rivers. Their banks are densely populated with numerous towns, and countless people depend on their waters. Their river cultures are almost synonymous with Chinese culture, making them extremely well-known domestically – probably no one doesn’t know of them.
In comparison, the Lancang River’s fame is much lesser, despite also being one of the “Three Rivers” and Asia’s third-longest river.
This is because it doesn’t flow east to embrace mainstream Chinese civilization. Instead, it cuts southward, flowing through sparsely populated areas of canyon forests filled with miasma, places anciently called barbarian territories. Apart from being destinations for exiled criminals, most people wouldn’t think of these places.
Looking at a map, the Lancang River’s course after leaving the Three Rivers’ Source appears to stick out like a leg deliberately keeping its distance: the section flowing through Tibet and Yunnan runs mere inches from the national border on the map, and it eventually flows out of the country – after leaving China’s borders at Mengla County in Xishuangbanna, Yunnan Province, it’s no longer called the Lancang River but takes a different name.
The Mekong River.
Therefore, Asia’s third-longest river’s full name is “Lancang-Mekong River,” with a hyphen in the middle, neither end to be omitted.
Ding Xi, growing up by the Yellow River and living in the most orthodox ancient cultural customs, saw the southwestern region as separated by countless mountains creating countless barriers. Moreover, Yi Sa later went to live in Southeast Asia for extended periods.
This made him feel that the “Yi” surname of the water ghost families who made their living along the Lancang River was, like the Lancang River on the map, cold and distant, impossible to warm up to.
Suddenly, Wu Gui emerged from the lake surface not far from the small boat, swung its head like a pendulum, and accurately tossed a fish into the boat cabin.
The fish struggled in its death throes on the cabin floor, splashing fishy water droplets everywhere.
Yi Sa used her shoe tip to nudge the fish into a corner: “Wu Gui performed well today, we’ll have fish to eat.”
Ding Xi stared at Wu Gui: “I heard that the Wu Gui you raise only eat blood eels after birth, and at sixty days old, they need to be fed a pair of dead person’s eyeballs. This way, once they’re in the water, they can see both the living and the dead.”
Yi Sa didn’t even raise her eyelids: “Feudal superstition, you believe that too?”
Ding Xi felt her way of speaking was extremely cunning, building an impenetrable wall with just a few words, leaving no room for rebuttal.
He could only change the subject: “Is this what you do every day?”
Yi Sa said: “Yes, it’s just living life, day after day, who comes up with different tricks every day? Is it boring? If it’s boring, you can go back to China.”
…
Yi Sa wasn’t pretentious, constantly reminding him: you’re not welcome, leave soon, I’m not comfortable with you here.
Ding Xi lowered his eyelids, took a mouthful of water to rinse, then squatted down to avoid dirty water splashing on him when spitting.
After finishing one rinse, just as he was about to start the second, he suddenly noticed that where he had just spit the water, among the floating dust and dirt, under the glimmering water, there seemed to be a strange shape…
As he tried to lower his head to look, suddenly with a splash, two greenish-white arms shot out from under the water, instantly wrapping around his neck. A great force followed, seemingly trying to drag him into the water.
Ding Xi thought “bad news” to himself, violently exerting force from his waist and hips, trying to use his lower body strength to hold his position, but the problem was he stood too close to the edge. With no point of support, his upper body was about to tip forward…
In that split second, he desperately grabbed the wooden edge of the platform with both hands, his legs sliding back, successfully changing from a squat to a prone position, but that thing had tremendous strength. Ding Xi could feel his body still being dragged downward, breaking out in a cold sweat. In desperation, he clenched his teeth, freed one hand to quickly grab the fallen toothbrush, forcefully bent it to break off the brush head, then without hesitation, stabbed forcefully at that thing…
After several strikes, he suddenly heard the crash of a falling water basin and Li Zhenxiang’s scream. The great force suddenly released, sinking into the water with bubbles, and Ding Xi fell back sitting on the platform, breathing heavily in large gulps, his neck covered in blood.
When Yi Sa received the news and arrived, Chen Tu had already done basic treatment for Ding Xi. Due to the hot and humid weather, it wasn’t advisable to bandage too tightly, so they just applied lots of purple medicine around his neck, making it look like he was wearing a purple scarf at first glance.
Li Zhenxiang was frightened, her face deathly pale. She told Yi Sa there was a woman in the water trying to drag Ding Xi down, and more than Ding Xi, she was worried about that woman because she saw clearly that Ding Xi’s broken toothbrush handle seemed to have stabbed into the woman’s head twice.
The implication was that the woman might be in mortal danger, and she rambled on about how they should find some good swimmers to go down and look, saying the corpse might be right under their feet now.
Yi Sa moved closer to look at the wounds on Ding Xi’s neck.
The marks were made by fingernails scratching violently, with several cuts deep enough to show flesh, and blood mixed with medicine, making her feel a bit nauseated.
Chen Tu was also very puzzled. He hadn’t seen the scene and didn’t have such a visual shock, but hearing the description, he only felt that someone was trying to harm Ding Xi: “He just arrived, how could he have offended anyone?”
Yi Sa lowered her eyes, and Ding Xi happened to look up at her. Their gazes met midway, like a round of tai chi pushing hands, measuring each other’s strength before immediately withdrawing, both understanding tacitly.
She answered: “I’ll go take a look. As for his wounds, give him a rabies shot too, just to be safe.”
Yi Sa held a large flashlight in one hand and an alloy steel thin baseball bat in the other, walking and looking along the platform edge.
The baseball bat was hollow, not particularly heavy, but being metal, it packed quite a punch when striking. Being thin and attractive while taking up minimal space, it was very suitable for women’s self-defense.
Yi Sa’s bat stayed in the boat during the day and by her bedside at night.
The man who had sneaked into her room was left with a permanent limp thanks to this baseball bat.
Li Zhenxiang followed far behind, trying to stay as far from the water’s edge as possible, nervously reminding her: “Yi Sa, stay away from the water, in case someone emerges again…”
Li Zhenxiang began muttering prayers. She believed in Cao Dai, a Vietnamese indigenous religion that was all-embracing, accommodating both Eastern and Western deities, worshipping Buddha, Jesus, Li Bai, Shakespeare, and Newton. Whenever she felt anxious and sought divine protection, she would recite seven or eight names.
Yi Sa squatted down at the spot where Ding Xi had been attacked, sweeping her flashlight over the wooden boards he had split when exerting force, and over the slightly rippling but otherwise normal water surface below the platform.
Not far away, Wu Gui stood erect, wings tightly folded, only its green glowing eyes filled with killing intent.
Yi Sa turned off the flashlight and turned to Li Zhenxiang: “Sister Xiang, let me take you home.”
Li Zhenxiang lived some distance away, usually taking a boat home after finishing dinner and cleaning up, but today Ding Xi’s incident had delayed things.
After sending Li Zhenxiang home and returning, most households in Fu Village had turned off their lights. Once the boat houses lost their lighting, only dark silhouettes remained.
The great lake was quiet, the small boat’s engine sound was muffled and low, stirring up water splashes, winding through seven or eight turns before circling back to Chen Tu’s boathouse.
Chen Tu had already gone to bed, the boat house was mostly dark except for the storage room with its door open, lit by a single dim yellow lamp.
At the water’s edge near the door, Wu Gui and Ding Xi squatted shoulder to shoulder, Ding Xi smoking, flicking ash into the water at his feet.
Yi Sa brought the boat alongside: “Give me the toothbrush handle.”
Ding Xi seemed to have been waiting for this request, and immediately handing it over.
“Did you wash it?”
“No.”
Yi Sa brought the sharp broken toothbrush handle close to her eyes for careful examination: “How many times did you stab into flesh?”
“Thirteen times.”
“No blood from thirteen stabs?”
As she spoke, she brought the toothbrush handle to her nose.
This time, her brows furrowed, and after a few seconds she spoke: “It smells a bit foul.”
Ding Xi smiled: “The stench of a corpse, right?”
Yi Sa didn’t look at him, holding the toothbrush handle out to Wu Gui: “Don’t talk nonsense, this great lake has always been clean.”
She emphasized the word “clean.”
Wu Gui lowered its head, repeatedly pushing at the toothbrush handle with its thin sharp beak, then moved its webbed feet unhurriedly, entering the water from the edge, and quickly swimming away.
Yi Sa wanted to ask Ding Xi if he wanted to come along, offering to go alone if he was afraid, but before she could speak, he had already boarded the boat.
Wu Gui swam towards the outer area, sometimes dipping its head underwater, its back creating bright white water lines on the lake surface, with the boat following closely behind these lines.
Midway, they passed by her own boat house, and Yi Sa stopped to go in and get something. When she came out, she carried a tool bag in her left hand and a bucket of diesel fuel in her right.
It seemed this journey wouldn’t be short.
Indeed, as they approached the deep part of the great lake, the fuel tank ran low and the propeller stopped working.
Once the engine stopped, the great lake became terrifyingly quiet. Yi Sa stood up to refuel the propeller, and Wu Gui, as if understanding human nature, waited nearby, only continuing to lead the way after she had finished refueling.
After proceeding further, Wu Gui suddenly stopped.