by Cai Jun
Shen Min wanted to take him into her apartment and put ointment on his hand, but she was afraid of her dad seeing her.
“Wait here—don’t go!”
The girl ran upstairs. In less than two minutes, she was back with ointment, bandages, and alcohol swabs. She grabbed Si Wang’s hand and cleaned the cut before sealing it with a bandage.
The other girls snickered. The boy ran out of the neighborhood.
Si Wang had finally made friends. During recess he would play badminton, hide-and-seek, and hopscotch with the girls. He didn’t care if the boys laughed.
During the second semester of fifth grade, when all the students were cramming for their tests, Shen Min was loving music class. In the warmer weather of May, she dressed in a light blouse that showed off her lean neck and arms. The piano teacher accompanied her as she sang, “Let’s paddle our oars, the boat is sailing in the waves, a beautiful pagoda is reflected in the sea, green trees and red walls surround us. The boat is floating and gliding in the water, a cool breeze comes toward us. Our red kerchiefs face the sun, the sun is on the water, the fish are watching us, listening to our happy singing.”
One girl in Section 2 was really rich. An Audi was always waiting for her after school. She often tried to tempt Si Wang into a ride. One day, Shen Min hid behind a tree and watched the girl tugging on Si Wang’s shirt. “I have two tickets to Harry Potter—you want to go?”
The boy awkwardly turned to run and bumped into Shen Min. The two laughed and took a walk around the school garden.
“You know why they call me a genius? I have superpowers.”
“What?” Her eyes went round. “Superpowers? I don’t believe you.”
“I know your dad’s name—it’s Shen Yuanchao.”
“Yeah, but that’s easy to find out.”
“You have an older brother. Not a cousin, a brother. I bet you didn’t know that.”
“How do you know this?”
“Go home and ask your dad.”
She thought of her living room, where there was a black-and-white photograph of young man beside a photograph of her mom. Dad never mentioned who he was.
“Let’s change the subject,” Si Wang said. “How is your mom?”
“She died.”
“I’m sorry.”
“She had me when she was over forty. The doctors told her it would be risky, but she insisted on having me. The day I was born, she died after a lot of bleeding.” Shen Min started crying. “I killed my mom.”
“When is your birthday?
“December 20, 1995.”
Si Wang used his fingers to count. “Ah, so she was already pregnant that day.”
“What are you talking about? What day?”
“You’ll have to call me older brother. I was born on December 19, a day earlier than you.”
“I won’t!”
“Fine, do you know when your older brother died?”
“No. What are you talking about?” She wiped off her tears and stared at him in confusion.
“June 19, 1995.” Si Wang lowered his head and started crying.
“Why are you crying?”
“I got something in my eye.”
“Don’t move—stare straight ahead.”
The girl licked his eye.
“My dad told me girls can cry but boys can’t.” She looked proud as she said this.
He nodded. “He’s right!”
“Are you going to cry again?”
“No, I promise.” The boy wiped his tears and turned around. “I need to go home now—bye!”
Two weeks later, the school year ended. From there, Si Wang and Shen Min went to different junior high schools, never to meet again.
Sometimes she fantasized about going on outings with Si Wang. They would row a boat on Yinchu Lake in Changfeng Park. The sad boy would sit across from her, their oars moving in sync as they hid in the shadows of the Tiebi Yin Mountain, gazing at the setting sun.
CHAPTER 34
Fall 2007.
“Kid, do you know why I told you the secret about that room last Christmas?”
Huang Hai and Si Wang were playing Xiangqi. Anyone looking in might have thought they were father and son.
“You were drunk.”
“Nonsense! I can hold my liquor. I wanted you to know. You must have your own secret about Shen Ming’s death.”
“We want the same thing.”
“So let’s do a trade. I told you what the police know. Why don’t you tell me what you know? You learned Gu family secrets at their place and must know more about Lu Zongyue.”
Si Wang was about to swoop in for a win, but he pulled back his piece. “Can I not say anything?”
“No. I still have lots of secrets, too. If you don’t tell me, I won’t tell you.”
“You lose.” The boy took a deep breath. “Let’s start with Gu Qiusha.”
“OK.”
“She had a medicine cabinet in her room with a locked drawer. I stole her key and opened it. There were tons of imported drugs, a lot of them not in English. I copied the letters and relocked the drawer so no one would know. I went online and saw they were German. I found out that they were for suppressing human luteinizing hormone—they made testosterone drop.”
Huang Hai scratched his head. “I’m confused.”
“In other words, chemical castration: making someone a eunuch with drugs.”
“That’s vicious.”
“They were for Lu Zhongyue. I pieced together why she only let me drink bottled water at home, never water from the tap.”
“No wonder Lu Zhongyue always seemed off.” Huang Hai lit a cigarette, stood up, and paced by the window. “If Lu found out, he must have hated Gu Qiusha. It makes sense that he would want to kill her.”
“For the past year I’ve been terrified that he’d come looking for me. I’m always reminding Mom to lock the windows and doors, and that if a stranger knocks, to not open the door, no matter what.”
“Kid, if only I had a son like you.” Huang Hai tapped the boy’s nose. “Don’t worry, as long as I’m around, you guys will be safe.”
“Really?”
“I guarantee you that the minute the guy shows up, I’ll catch him.” The cop looked at the time. “Go home now—your mom will call if you’re not back soon.”
After the boy left, he went into the small room. He looked at his wall of connections, touching Shen Ming’s name tacked up in the center of the chart.
In June of 1995, a week before he was killed, Shen Ming was still in jail, and he demanded to see Huang Hai. He said he had some major clues. So in the middle of the night, Huang Hai left home—where his one-year-old slept—and cycled to work.
Sitting there in the interrogation room, Shen Ming looked more like a ghost than a person. He anxiously pulled at his hair, his calm high school teacher demeanor all gone. He knelt down and pleaded with Huang Hai, “I didn’t kill anyone . . . I didn’t kill anyone.”
“What proof do you have?”
“Mr. Huang, there are two rumors about me at school, and one of them is true.”
“You were seeing your student Liu Man?”
He wiped away some tears and his lips trembled. “No, I was born out of wedlock.”
“Your birth father wasn’t the man who killed his wife and then got executed?”
“No. That guy’s last name wasn’t Shen, so people said I wasn’t his kid.” Shen Ming coughed violently. “My real dad is a good guy like you, with a respectable job and social standing. I once swore to him that I would never tell anyone.”
“I see. If he has nothing to do with this case, I respect your secret.”
“I was named Shen Ming at birth. My mom got married when I was three, and I took my stepdad’s last name. That man was an animal. He had other wo
men but used my mom to support him. I wasn’t his kid, so he took his anger out on me. He’d beat me when my mom wasn’t home. He was careful not to leave marks. I told my mom, but he denied it. My earliest memories are of crying and screaming. Every time he walked toward me, I’d shake so hard and hide under the bed. I was only five or six.”
Huang Hai had heard a lot of similar stories before, but he still muttered, “Such evil.”
“When I was seven, my stepdad poisoned my mom, killing her. He was arrested and executed after I reported it to the police. My grandma was my only family. I couldn’t bear to keep the wicked man’s last name, so we changed it back to Shen Ming.”
“I wondered about that when I read your file.”
“My grandma wasn’t educated. She worked as a nanny all her life, and for the same employer most of the time. You know Serenity Road? I stayed in a basement there from first through ninth grades. It was damp, dark, and full of rats. I grew up like a lost ghost. I look geeky now, but I got in fights every day back then. Kids ganged up on me—they’d throw stones and try to pull down my pants. They’d even pee in my face. I would fight back and go home with bruises. But I won in the end. No one could beat me anymore, and they scattered as soon as they saw me. They said I would turn into a thug—or a murderer like my stepdad. But I did good in school, using old textbooks and materials donated by the family my grandmother worked for. I made it into Nanming High.”
“Shen Ming, I have sympathy for you, but it doesn’t change how I feel about the case.”
“I have to tell you, though. My stepfather is now ashes. He was executed, but he still haunts me like a drunken black shadow, his heavy footsteps always coming closer and closer.”
Huang Hai, a new father, grew sad. “Enough.”
“Let me finish! I dreamed of seeing him in jail. I saw that dirty face getting close to mine as he squeezed my neck. He wants revenge on me for telling the police. Without me, they’d have believed that my mom died from an illness. He wouldn’t have been sentenced to death. Time after time, I wake up after being strangled to death.”
“I’ve had nightmares like this, too, dreaming of criminals I executed.” Huang Hai wanted to slap himself. Why was he sharing his fears with a suspect?
Suddenly, Shen Ming’s hand reached across the guardrails and seized Huang Hai’s sleeve. He said with trepidation, “Last night I dreamed that I died. A knife stabbed me in the back and I turned into a boy.”
Twelve years later, there were more wrinkles on Huang Hai’s forehead. He added a name to the wall and drew a new line—from Shen Ming to Si Wang.
CHAPTER 35
In 2007, Si Wang was attending May First Junior High School.
He Qingying had an uneasy feeling this year, maybe because it was her son’s zodiac year. She vowed to spend more time with him, so she decided to open a store he could hang out in. Having paid off all of her debts, she still had about 100,000 yuan in savings leftover from the Gu family’s adoption compensation.
In the summer, with Huang Hai’s help, He Qingying opened a small bookstore across from the May First Junior High School.
Si Wang named it Deserted Village Bookstore.
In the scorching summer heat, He Qingying went to the wholesale market in order to stock their store. They chose Si Wang’s favorite literature and history books—and also reference books, which would help the bookstore survive. He Qingying also selected copies of Guo Jingming’s Sadness into a River, Han Han’s One City, and suspense and thriller novels since kids liked to read those.
They opened on the first day of school. Huang Hai brought some of his colleagues to celebrate. Seeing all those cops in one place made it seem like there’d been a murder at the store.
By 8:00 a.m., the firecracker ceremony had ended, so He Qingying took her son across the street to school. Si Wang wore a red kerchief, and he begged his mom to go back to the store. She was a bit sad to realize that her son no longer wanted to be seen at school with his mom.
The junior high was on Longevity Road, very close to nightclubs. Luxury cars congregated by them and call girls went in and out. The school had a moderate-sized yard with oleander trees. The classroom buildings were clustered in a horseshoe shape, with a small patio in the middle. A two-story building sat across the playing field, looking like a barren island. This was the infirmary and the music classroom.
Si Wang adapted faster than anyone else. If he hadn’t been intentionally trying to do badly, he’d have been the best student in class. He still had almost no friends, and all the teachers figured him for a loner. Since the Erya Education ad campaign had disappeared long ago, no one knew what had happened to him in third and fourth grades. He talked more at the bookstore and brought over his classmates, promoting all sorts of bestsellers and the Zui Novel magazine. He also made sure everyone knew that they sold reference books and textbooks for cheaper than the school did. He Qingying gave all the students 20 percent off.
The following year in spring.
The Nude Picture Scandal was all over the Internet, and many kids saw the photos. He Qingying was worried but couldn’t bring it up to her son, so she let it go.
Si Wang’s last baby tooth fell out, and his permanent teeth grew in. Unlike other kids, he gave all his baby teeth to his mom, who stored them in her bottom dresser drawer.
“Wang Er, your hair and teeth are precious. My suffering gave them to you. I must take good care of them.”
Si Wang was a student at the junior high school—seventh grade, Section 2.
His dad had been missing for six years now. They were used to a life without him. He could have been a part of their past-life memory even if their family photo still stood by the bed.
At the bookstore, business was good. He Qingying and Si Wang were more like partners than mother and son. In their first year they even made a small profit. Huang Hai’s protection meant they weren’t hassled by the Industry and Commerce Bureau, the Tax Bureau, or the Municipal Inspectors. She worked in the store every day. She only brought in outside help when there was an emergency.
When she had trouble sleeping, she would stroke her son’s back. Si Wang said he never wanted to grow up; he didn’t want his Adam’s apple bulging or his voice changing. He wanted to keep holding his mom at night when he slept. The light glowed through the curtains, illuminating He Qingying’s face. The Taiwanese movie star Lin Chi-ling was only four years younger than her—there must be men who found her attractive.
Si Wang had his thirteenth birthday on December 19, 2008.
He had never celebrated a birthday at a restaurant. Usually, his mom brought home cake and the two would sing birthday songs. This time, Huang Hai brought gifts. He really wasn’t good at gift giving. He brought ham and salted fish, and an ugly set of stationery, but the gesture was appreciated. He helped her cook but kept spilling spices and seasonings. The brutish cop tried to talk about household matters with He Qingying, and that amused her. The two of them had fun joking around.
When she turned around, she saw Si Wang’s cold eyes watching her.
Before they blew out the thirteen candles, Huang Hai rushed to say, “Wait, let me make a wish.”
He Qingying could guess his wish, but Si Wang blew out the flame before he could say it. She held her chin and watched her son. What was his wish?
After the birthday celebration, He Qingying took a walk with Huang Hai. When she got home, Si Wang was watching a horror movie, his eyes full of disappointment. He may have been hard to read sometimes, but she knew him well enough to realize that this had not been a fun birthday.
Three years later in winter.
Rain blurred the view out the windows as He Qingying took her son to do grave-sweeping. The car passed Nanming Road. Si Wang closed his eyes and didn’t open them again until after they left the area.
This was the grave of Si Wang’s paternal grandparents. Quiet str
eams and robust pines enclosed the area. The names of the dead were written in black paint and the names of the living were in red. Si Wang’s name was in red, as was Si Mingyuan’s, the oldest son. He Qingying laid out their offerings at the gravesite. They knelt and then burned incense for their ancestral spirits to enjoy.
An hour later, they arrived at another cemetery. She bought some joss paper and had Si Wang hold a bouquet. They found the worn-looking grave in the crowded cemetery, where there was a photo of an elderly couple.
“Bow to your maternal grandparents.”
Si Wang properly bowed three times. He and his mom burned joss paper until the smoke hurt their eyes.
It started snowing on their way home.
“Mom, where do you think Dad went?”
“I don’t know.”
Her frosty answer made it sound like she was talking about some irrelevant dead person.
CHAPTER 36
Yi Yu first saw Si Wang when she was in Section 2 of ninth grade at May First Junior High. It was late fall 2007.
She walked alone past the coal cinder track and noticed the boy in the sandbox, carefully building a castle and mumbling like a crazy person. Yi Yu paced around him until he turned to look at her.
“What do you want?” he said.
“This is my turf.” The fifteen-year-old girl had a beautiful voice, but she was sounding rude on purpose.
“Why? This is for everyone to use.”
That’s when she slapped him. The twelve-year-old boy hadn’t gone through puberty yet, making him scrawny like a monkey. He fell and ate a mouthful of sand. She was bigger and much taller, and he was no match for her. So he ran.
Yi Yu always wore blue sweatpants, a white school jacket, and black running shoes. No one had seen her in a skirt, not even anything bright. She hardly seemed feminine. She was almost 170 centimeters tall, her hair as short as a guy’s. Her eyes were large and bright. She didn’t play with girls, or boys. Everyone treated her like an ogre. None of the boys liked her, especially since she frequently beat up the younger ones. Some said she was a lesbian. But she didn’t like girls, either. Her grades were great—she always ranked number one on the end-of-semester tests. She was as good at history as she was at calligraphy. Her skills seemed to show decades of experience, enough to compare to master calligraphers. The school principal actually hung one of her pieces at home. To the English teacher, she once recited Yeats’s “When You Are Old.” She remembered every word and pronounced it perfectly, though she’d never been abroad.
