Ding Xi thought they had arrived at their destination. Looking around at water everywhere, he felt the situation was disadvantageous to him, and chills crept up his back as Yi Sa unzipped her bag and handed him a military shovel.
But nothing unusual happened for a long time. Wu Gui seemed trapped, or as if hitting an invisible wall, frantically circling in one spot, its wings creating chaotic splashing sounds on the water’s surface.
Ding Xi frowned: “Is this a local bird species? Maybe it won’t be effective?”
Yi Sa said: “How could it be local? It was sent from China.”
“From China?”
Ding Xi remembered that live poultry couldn’t pass through customs. The country had its considerations, fearing the introduction of foreign pathogens and disruption of domestic flora and fauna balance. Such items would usually be detained and destroyed by inspection and quarantine departments.
Yi Sa made an affirmative sound, her palm gripping the baseball bat’s end: “It was smuggled in.”
Back then, when she got a call from home saying they had arranged for someone to bring her something, she thought it would be a daily necessity and casually went to collect it. But when the iron cage’s cover was lifted, it was a sixty-day-old Wu Gui.
They reportedly paid double the usual fee, first going through Myanmar, then Laos, and finally winding their way to Cambodia – quite the experienced smuggling route.
However, the current situation seemed a bit off. Yi Sa wanted to get closer to look, but just then, Wu Gui seemed to suddenly get its bearings, stretched its neck, and swam toward the shore.
Yi Sa let out a breath and turned to follow.
The dark shoreline grew closer, with clusters of trees along the bank. This was the kind of landscape occasionally seen in uninhabited areas of Tonle Sap Lake, also called peat swamp forest – because the soil was perpetually waterlogged, accumulated dead branches and leaves remained soaked, unable to decompose, eventually forming peat, which would also release into the atmosphere. Therefore, besides being covered in swamps, the area was extremely flammable.
Judging the distance to be about right, Yi Sa turned off the engine, letting the current drift the boat, while turning on her flashlight. After the beam swept along the shoreline, it suddenly stopped.
In that pale light, a woman appeared.
She lay face down in the shallow water at the shore’s edge, covered with small green algae, wearing a white tube top and a colorful sarong skirt. Her exposed skin appeared ghastly pale with a bluish tint in the beam of light, her messy hair floating in the water, swaying with the current.
Yi Sa planted her baseball bat in the water to steady the boat at a safe distance.
They sat in the boat for a while, watching Wu Gui wobble ashore, and circle the woman, repeatedly pushing at her surroundings with its beak.
The woman showed no movement.
Ding Xi asked softly: “Is she dead?”
Yi Sa watched Wu Gui’s reactions, then nodded: “Yes, she’s dead.”
In certain matters, animals’ reactions were more reliable than humans’.
Ding Xi stood up, gripping the military shovel as he entered the water. It only reached below his knees, getting shallower toward the outside. After just two steps, Yi Sa called out: “Wait.”
She took out a box of incense from her bag, picked three sticks, holding them between her fingers except for the thumb, lit them one by one with her lighter, waited for the tips to stabilize, waved them left and right to let the smoke drift, then handed them to Ding Xi.
Ding Xi extended his left hand, taking them with the same gesture.
Their profession had always respected the dead, believing that “besides life and death, nothing is of great importance.” When encountering unidentified corpses in water or on riverbanks, they would typically offer three incense sticks, paying respect to the person’s past, present, and future.
Death erased all grudges – even an enemy’s corpse wouldn’t be desecrated.
Before liberation, they would have helped with proper burial, but not anymore. Such corpses usually involved criminal cases, and modern society had a complete set of investigation and handling procedures. Arbitrary interference would only contaminate the scene.
Ding Xi waded through the water, planted the three incense sticks in the muddy water about an inch from the woman’s head, then squatted down for a closer look.
Yi Sa used the baseball bat as a pole to let the boat drift closer: “Is it her?”
No answer was needed; she could see too: the woman’s exposed shoulders and back had multiple puncture wounds, the flesh around the wounds showing no blood, appearing white from long submersion.
Yi Sa took out a pair of rubber gloves from her bag and threw them over. After putting them on, Ding Xi pinched the woman’s tube top fabric, which was almost completely waterlogged.
He turned to look at Yi Sa: “The cloth is almost rotted from soaking.”
Generally, for clothes to be this waterlogged would take at least half a year if not a full year, but with clothes on a body, soaking this long in such temperature and environment, it should have been reduced to just bones by now.
He shook his hand and looked around again, his brows knotted into a knot: nothing made sense, not to mention that just an hour or two ago, this woman had tried to kill him.
Yi Sa hadn’t expected such a bizarre situation at the end of their pursuit. Dead people couldn’t talk, and there were no other clues around. She felt it was better to stay still than move: “Let’s head back first.”
Leave things as they were here; such a bizarre corpse shouldn’t be hastily buried.
Ding Xi wasn’t satisfied: “Wait, let me see her face.”
Yi Sa continued providing light but turned her head away: for certain inevitably unsightly scenes, she always avoided them if possible, preventing stomach upset for several days when eating.
But Ding Xi called to her again: “Yi Sa, look at this, it’s strange.”
Yi Sa had to turn back.
Surprisingly, it was the face of a young, beautiful woman, lifelike except for being extremely pale.
This wasn’t right either – the face of someone dead for a long time shouldn’t look like this, but she was dead, as there was a sticky decay smell around the body.
Moreover, this face looked familiar.
She closed her eyes, trying hard to remember, her mental vision snaking quickly through the jumbled images she’d seen these past few days. Ding Xi boarded the boat, tactfully not disturbing her. As he stuffed the military shovel into the bag, he suddenly noticed a paper that had been rolled up but not completely.
He casually took it out to look.
Almost simultaneously, Yi Sa’s remembering vision suddenly paused, and then a scene unfolded before her eyes.
It was Old Ma, with a fearful yet ingratiating smile, unfolding a missing person notice to her –
“I’m looking for someone, my daughter. If you remember anything, please help keep an eye out.”
Chen Tu had gone out early to place orders.
Different locations, different people, dealing with various connections, he ordered until sunset.
When he returned, he saw Yi Sa from afar.
A folding round table and chairs were set up on the boat house’s first-floor platform, where she sat eating, with various bags piled by her feet.
Chen Tu thought she was leaving, but while mooring his boat, Li Zhenxiang came to talk to him, and he realized he had misunderstood.
So he shouted to Yi Sa: “What’s the meaning of this? Having one person stay isn’t enough, now you want to move in yourself!”
He knew he probably couldn’t drive her away, but he could still complain.
Sure enough, Yi Sa sighed: “It’s not like I want to stay here. I’m the host, they came to visit me and something happened here. I can’t just leave it, and I’m worried about more accidents, so I’m staying for a couple of days, just in case.”
Chen Tu rolled his eyes at her, sat down in another chair, and nodded toward her luggage: “Why haven’t you taken it inside?”
Yi Sa said: “Well, I needed your permission first, right? How could I just take it in without the host’s word?”
Chen Tu gave a dry laugh, thinking her pretense was something else.
He turned to look at the storage room: “Your friend…”
He was about to ask where the friend went, but stopped halfway, seeing him lying on the bed resting, probably exhausted from last night’s ordeal.
Chen Tu had eaten outside, but sitting watching someone eat made his mouth feel bland, so he called Li Zhenxiang to bring two bottles of alcohol while lowering his voice: “Who exactly was trying to harm him? This morning, Xiang was urging me to find someone to check underwater, insisting there was someone under the boat house.”
As he spoke, he glanced down at the water: having a dead body “guarding” under the house would be quite creepy.
Yi Sa burst out laughing: “There’s no one there, Sister Xiang is overthinking… Hey, let me ask you, did anyone see Ma You staying here?”
Chen Tu was stunned for a while before realizing who Ma You was.
He shook his head.
Yi Sa persisted: “Not a single person?”
Chen Tu pointed at Fu Village: “If someone came in the dark, stayed inside, barely moved around outside, and when they did move it was when no one was around, who would see them? Never mind others, just look at you – you’ve been back for several days, moving around in broad daylight, and there are still many people who don’t know.”
That was true.
Yi Sa felt a bit deflated. Nobody was a prophet – if she had known beforehand that things would be related to Ma You, she would have grabbed Old Ma that day when he handed her the missing person notice and questioned him thoroughly.
Who knew where Old Ma was now?
Old Ma was very close to her.
Just by lifting her head and looking southwest, she could see the roof of his house.
At this moment, Old Ma’s lips were trembling, his heart pounding wildly in his chest, threatening to thunder out loud.
He looked at Dan Zai and Fei Lao standing at the door, then at Zong Hang in the corner, ashen-faced, before lowering his head between his protruding shoulder blades, hoping this torturous scene would quickly pass.
“Let’s go,” seeing Zong Hang not moving, Dan Zai became a bit impatient, “Didn’t we tell you? We got the wrong person, now we’re taking you back.”
Zong Hang rose trembling, only at the last moment truly understanding what it meant that a bad life was better than a good death. He used every trick he could think of, just trying to delay even one second: “It’s almost evening, not good for driving… how about tomorrow?”
Dan Zai gave a sardonic smile: “Brother, we kidnapped you, we can’t be seen in daylight. Of course, we have to take you back at night… Move faster!”
He couldn’t stand people dawdling.
Zong Hang trembled at his shout, still having to smile and bow obsequiously.
He walked out slowly, not daring to straighten his back, this submissiveness containing a small heroism known only to himself.
He had decided: if there was no escape and death was imminent, he would make one last fight for himself. If they tried to sink him in the lake, he would watch for his chance and drag one of them down with him, even if it cost him his life.
This way, when word reached Zong Bishi’s ears, his father would say, this kid showed some manhood in his final moments, and Tong Hong would wipe her tears and say, our Hang Hang was brave after all.
So now he had to cooperate, had to make Dan Zai and the others think he was spineless, so they would lower their guard.
It was the same fishing boat as before, the same people. On the platform, a woman was washing pots and dishes, who looked up at him when she heard the commotion.
Her gaze was like looking at someone being taken to their funeral.
Dark clouds pressed low over the great lake, likely heralding an imminent downpour. The engine soon started up, and Zong Hang curled up in a corner of the cabin, his gaze lingering for a second or two on the concrete block at the back of the cabin.
Some fishing boats used stones or concrete blocks as anchors, but he remembered clearly there had been no such thing on the boat when he came.
The fishing boat passed through Fu Village, some households had already lit their lamps, the light hazing into the still-white sky with a sickly old ginger yellow. Zong Hang forced himself to be spirited, politely chatting with Dan Zai: “Thank you all, sorry for the trouble. When I get back, I’ll have my dad treat you to dinner, anything you want.”
Dan Zai looked at him like he was looking at an idiot, grinning while ruffling his head: “Which dad?”
Zong Hang laughed spinelessly: “My real dad.”
Dan Zai burst out laughing, turned, and said something in Thai to the other two, and they all laughed together, probably thinking he was inexplicably stupid. Their contempt united them, their vigilance dropping by half, not even bothering to cover him to avoid people’s attention.
Zong Hang laughed bitterly, accidentally looking up when suddenly his mind exploded.
He saw Yi Sa.
It was her, no mistake. It was a boat house, not far from the fishing boat. She was squatting down, holding a ceramic bowl, feeding water to a large water bird. Beside her sat a middle-aged man, half-bald, bare-chested with an open shirt, holding a bottle of alcohol.
Moreover, the boat house had a door with Spring Festival couplets – red couplets, and under the door frame hung a gourd, the kind seen in comic books carried by Iron-Crutch Li of the Eight Immortals.
Suddenly blood rushed to his head.
These people were Chinese!
He stood up with a jerk, shouting: “Yi Sa! I know you! It’s me!”
At the same time, without any more hesitation, using all his strength, he suddenly jumped into the water.
The world instantly lost balance, water overwhelming his ears, nose, and eyes, as Zong Hang desperately splashed at the water.
He couldn’t swim, but he had to jump.
In his mind’s eye, he felt that this house, and Yi Sa, were his chance for survival.
From behind came the humming of the fishing boat approaching, Dan Zai standing with one foot on the gunwale, cursing continuously, but not entering the water: the residential area’s water was extremely dirty, usually full of sewage and garbage. Unless necessary, he wouldn’t enter the water.
Besides, he could see Zong Hang was a landlubber who couldn’t escape.
On the boat house, Yi Sa stood up holding the bowl, watching the splashing water, feeling completely bewildered.
Chen Tu was equally puzzled: “He called your name, you know him?”
Yi Sa looked at the person struggling in the water, then at the faces of those on the boat, and shook her head.
The deadlock was broken by Li Zhenxiang.
She looked panic-stricken, hurriedly bringing over the boat pole from the wall of the boat house, forcefully pushing it toward the water: “Someone’s going to die! The young man can’t swim, save him!”