Zong Hang sat cross-legged on the bed writing postcards, using the combat manual as a writing board.
He had chosen the postcard from the souvenir shop downstairs. Among all the famous Shanxi landmarks, he specifically picked this one: The Great Locust Tree of Hongtong, Shanxi.
There was an inscription beside it that read: “Even if the tree grows a thousand zhang tall, its fallen leaves will eventually return to their roots.”
It perfectly matched his current situation and hopes for the future.
In the phone booth earlier, though he had dialed the number, he hadn’t dared to speak.
Tong Hong answered the phone, saying “hello” twice before Zong Bisheng asked nearby: “Who is it? Wrong number?”
Tong Hong replied: “Not sure, they haven’t hung up but aren’t saying anything.”
After a two-second pause, perhaps through maternal intuition, Tong Hong suddenly shouted: “Hanghang? Is that you, Hanghang?”
Zong Hang, as if stung by a scorpion, felt his eyes burn and quickly hung up the phone.
Just hearing Tong Hong’s voice was too much for him. They would have ended up crying together, and crying in front of Yi Sa would have been too embarrassing. Besides, while making the call was easy, explaining everything wouldn’t be. With Zong Bisheng’s temperament, he would certainly demand him to “come home immediately,” maybe even fly over to pick him up, and would question where he’d been these two months and who should be held responsible…
He hadn’t even made up a story yet, and moreover, he couldn’t go back now, and didn’t really… want to go back.
…
Yi Sa came out of the bathroom after showering, glimpsed him writing intently, and couldn’t help teasing: “Told you to make a phone call but you wouldn’t, now you’re being dramatic here.”
Zong Hang said: “I’m not ready yet.”
“It’s just a two-minute phone call home, not a bride getting into her wedding sedan – what’s there to prepare for?”
Two minutes? Try handling it in two minutes! Just Tong Hong’s crying alone would take at least half an hour to settle.
Zong Hang looked up defiantly, about to argue, when he suddenly froze.
Fresh from her shower, Yi Sa looked refreshed in a white sleeveless T-shirt with a large collar and rose-pink shorts. More notably, she had tied up her hair.
Her hair wasn’t very long, so she usually wore it loose and rarely tied it up. The sudden change made her look particularly young, especially with the tiny ponytail barely a finger’s length, sticking up rebelliously at the back of her head — she’d accomplished something significant today, and her whole demeanor was relaxed and a bit cocky, the little ponytail matching her attitude.
She looked different from before, like a proudly impish young girl.
Zong Hang could somewhat understand why Yi Xiao liked to pull Yi Sa’s ears.
Yi Sa came over and sat on the edge of his bed: “What are you writing? Let me see.”
Zong Hang handed her the postcard.
What kind of writing was this…
— Has the egg flower bloomed? If it has, let’s make scrambled eggs.
— Don’t put the glasses on the right side of the table, they’ll fall.
— Take less medicine from the brown bottle.
Instead of signing “Zong Hang,” he drew a silly-looking child’s head.
Zong Hang explained to her.
In their villa’s courtyard, there was a frangipani tree, also called the egg flower tree. When it bloomed, it was completely white except for the pale yellow near the flower’s center, looking just like egg white and yolk. As a child, whenever the tree bloomed, he would drag a small stool over and happily eat sugar-fried eggs under it.
Zong Bisheng found computer text too small and needed glasses, but after taking them off, he always forgot to put them back in their case, leaving them on his right side where his arm would knock them off – he’d broken several pairs that way.
Tong Hong had trouble sleeping, and the brown bottle contained sleeping pills. When he was young, Zong Hang often heard Zong Bisheng remind her to “take less,” and as he grew up, “take less” became his catchphrase too.
The child’s head drawing was from his first art class in kindergarten. When Tong Hong saw it, she exclaimed “Our Hanghang has such artistic talent!” Later, the heavens grew jealous, and his artistic talent was eaten by dogs.
These were all personal details that couldn’t be imitated, more convincing than directly writing “I’m fine” or “Don’t worry.”
Though it was indeed thoughtful and considerate, Yi Sa still felt it was just a matter of a two-minute phone call — but whatever, he could make the call whenever he wanted.
She sat back on her bed: “Feel better about today?”
Surprisingly, Zong Hang shook his head: “No, I don’t like hitting someone who won’t fight back. Feels like bullying the weak.”
Such a fussy person. Yi Sa said: “Ding Changsheng gave the order, so even if he wanted to fight back, he had to hold back. Dealing with Ding Xi in front of Ding Changsheng was the most effective way.”
Zong Hang was puzzled: “Why is he so afraid of Ding Changsheng?”
“Ding Changsheng raised him. If Ding Changsheng hadn’t taken him in, he’d have died long ago… Hey, thinking back, when we fooled Ding Changsheng today, did you notice any flaws in my story?”
Were there any? Zong Hang frowned; he thought it was perfect.
Yi Sa said: “Never mind, can’t count on you. At least we should be pretty safe for the next while.”
After all, she’d thrown such a huge bomb at Ding Changsheng, enough to keep him frantically busy for a while. Besides, no one else knew about Yi Xiao’s death except Ding Yudi — and he didn’t lack money, and didn’t like women or men, so friendship was the only way to win him over.
She suddenly thought of something: “What about Jing Xiu? How much does she know?”
She knew about his death and revival, but that wasn’t a secret anymore, unimportant. Zong Hang thought for a moment: “She knows I can’t eat liver or seafood, that it makes me sick.”
Getting sick from eating river or seafood was quite different from getting sick at any time.
Yi Sa’s eyes darted: “No problem, you’ve been separated from her for a while, as they say, ‘three days apart deserves a fresh look’ — if anyone asks, just say after you separated from her, your condition worsened. Before, you’d get sick from river and seafood, now you get sick anytime.”
Could that saying be used that way?
Zong Hang felt his connection with Yi Sa growing closer.
When she was in school, she must have been a poor student too.
Jing Xiu woke up in the middle of the night, suddenly hearing the door.
Her heart jumped, and she quickly got up. In the darkness, she saw a familiar figure enter.
Ding Xi saw her get up too: “It’s me.”
He fumbled his way to the bathroom in the dark.
The bathroom light came on, its yellow glow filtering through the frosted glass, soft and diffused, floating through the room, making everything seem unreal.
Jing Xiu stood stunned for a moment, then put on her slippers and went over, looking at his shadow on the glass door: “Weren’t you supposed to come back in a few days?”
“Finished early, so I came back.”
His tone was strange, muffled, as if speaking with his tongue held back. Jing Xiu didn’t know why, but she suddenly pushed open the glass door.
Ding Xi turned to look at her.
He had been beaten quite badly, with bruises around his eyes and brows, swollen cheeks, and a split lip. There were also bruises on his body — he’d noticed on the boat that Zong Hang’s strength had increased significantly, and this time he’d improved even more, throwing punches with proper form, either from instruction or practice.
Looking at Jing Xiu, he suddenly laughed: “Talk about karma, huh?”
Yesterday he’d found her beaten up, today she found him beaten up. Her face hadn’t healed, and his face was the latest addition.
Jing Xiu trembled, her voice shaking: “Is it… revenge…”
It was revenge, but not related to your robbery. Ding Xi turned on the tap and splashed cold water on his face: “Not because of you, don’t get emotional.”
Jing Xiu didn’t know what to say and stood for a while before remembering: “I went to the pharmacy today and bought some medicine. Let me help you apply it.”
Ding Xi grunted in agreement, shook his hands dry, and sat on the sofa. Jing Xiu turned on the light, but the bright incandescent light made Ding Xi squint and shield his eyes with his hand, so she quickly turned it off again.
Ding Xi sighed.
Darkness was better, it was intimate and understanding. Too much light left nowhere to hide.
Jing Xiu dipped a cotton swab in medicine and gently dabbed his injuries: “What did your godfather send you to do?”
Ding Xi didn’t feel like talking.
Jing Xiu fell silent.
This was what was good about her – she could read the situation and knew when to back off, unlike some people who had no sense of timing and would keep chattering like flies when you didn’t want to talk.
Her silence made him want to speak: “Just the usual stuff.”
Jing Xiu glanced at him: “Nothing good, right?”
Ding Xi laughed coldly: “Would I ever get a good job?”
Finding the topic depressing, he changed the subject: “By the way, I saw that friend of yours today, Zong Hang.”
Jing Xiu was caught off guard, then became excited and worried: “You mean… Zong Hang? Is he okay?”
“Fine, tough as nails,” Ding Xi pointed to his face, “Strong muscles and bones, every punch was solid.”
Was this… the same person?
Jing Xiu felt awkward: “Stop joking, Zong Hang wouldn’t hit anyone.”
Ding Xi laughed coldly, speaking sarcastically: “People change after a few days apart. Now he not only hits people but has found a powerful backer. Oh my, I’m really scared. That woman won’t be easy to deal with, might even try to kill me.”
After speaking, he got up and lay down on the bed.
Jing Xiu first went to turn off the bathroom light, then fumbled her way to lie beside Ding Xi. After lying with eyes open for a long while, she finally asked softly: “Since you saw Zong Hang today, is he nearby? Could you arrange… for me to see him?”
Ding Xi’s voice showed no emotion: “Missing him that much?”
Jing Xiu explained: “Things should… have proper closure. They hired me originally, and we never officially ended things, just suddenly separated. Should at least say goodbye properly.”
Ding Xi was vague: “Heard they’re not leaving for a few days, should be a chance.”
The next two days were peaceful and quiet.
Yi Sa took Zong Hang to visit Ding Yudi with fruit – partly to strengthen friendship, partly out of curiosity: news of Ding Changsheng breaking Ding Yudi’s leg had spread wildly among the three families, with gossips telling detailed stories — how Ding Yudi disrespected his elder, how Ding Changsheng’s anger rose, and how he grabbed a carrying pole…
What era was this, still using carrying poles? Even the rumormongers seemed to feel it inappropriate, and later versions changed it to a baseball bat, more modern and stylish.
When they met, Ding Yudi was bouncing around fine, but when asked about what conflict had occurred, he refused to talk: having the butterfly pin pulled from his head was too humiliating.
Fortunately, Yi Sa didn’t care about that, only instructing him to keep the Xi nest matter secret, and not to tell anyone, especially Ding Changsheng.
She specifically poked at his sore spot: “You absolutely must not be like those informants who promised not to tell anyone about the kiln factory business, then turned around and told Ding Changsheng everything.”
Ding Yudi said angrily: “Am I that kind of person? I’m a water ghost at least, others might have no shame, but I do.”
Good, she liked this kind of resolute dignity.
Yi Sa felt reassured.
The news all came rushing in on the morning of the third day.
First, Yi Yunqiao called early in the morning, furious: “Sasa, have you heard? They’ve taken our ancestral tablet.”
Yi Sa feigned confusion: “Huh?”
The ancestral tablet being taken was good news. “Hundred-zhang drums on the Yellow River banks, Cycle Bell in the lake’s depths” – among the three great rivers, both the Yangtze and the “Lancang-Mekong” had hanging water lakes, which meant they both had Cycle Bells and so far, it seemed the ancestral tablet was key to activating the Cycle Bell.
Yi Yunqiao was dissatisfied with her attitude: “Aren’t you surnamed Yi? If the Yi ancestral tablet isn’t kept in our ancestral hall, where should it be? This won’t do, I need an explanation. Listen, when the time comes, you need to stand with me. With two water ghosts speaking up, they won’t dare ignore us.”
Yi Sa obediently agreed.
Just as that call ended, Ding Yudi called, his tone mixed with hesitation, confusion, and excitement: “Sasa, Uncle Panling just notified me to go to Hukou… to lock Jintang.”
Yi Sa took a while to react: “Lock Jintang?”
What joke was this? For nearly a hundred years, it had always been about opening Jintang, never about locking it. In modern society, who would lock money at the bottom of a great river?
Ding Yudi shared the same thoughts: “I’ll go prepare first, we’ll keep in touch if anything comes up.”
After hanging up, Yi Sa’s heart was racing: these events wouldn’t suddenly occur together without a connection, there must be links between them.
Sure enough, the third phone call came.
It was from Ding Changsheng, giving her an address and asking her to come quickly, reminding her to bring Zong Hang without fail.