The Child's Past Life

by Cai Jun

  By the temple, next to the road, grass connected with sky

  Night wind, sounds of the flute, setting sun on the mountains

  Corner of the world, end of time, so many friends leaving

  One cauldron of wine marks our good-byes, dreams get colder

  The song ends, and we part.

  That had been twenty-six years ago.

  Now Lu Zhongyue was a fugitive. As he saw it, every obstacle in his life was thanks to his former best friend.

  Lu Zhongyue had come to this remote village for Lu Jizong, his nineteen-year-old son. For a year he stalked Chen Xiangtian and Lu Jizong. The girl he’d once liked wasn’t worth looking at anymore. But the son he’d wanted to abort had grown tall and strong. Most important, he’d inherited his father’s looks.

  Lu Jizong did nothing with his time. He either watched porn or played games all night at Internet cafés. He won a lot of virtual knives in the games, until his mom pulled him out of the place. He hardly talked to anyone, and had no friends except for the virtual ones he met playing games.

  No girls liked him.

  Lu Jizong always kept his head lowered because of the birthmark on his forehead. He watched others with a cool expression, putting fear in them. One night when he was playing Defense of the Ancients, someone sitting next to him at the Internet café called him a bastard and his mom a slut. As he beat up the guy, Lu Jizong looked like a man possessed.

  Worried that if he revealed himself to his son he would be found out, Lu Zhongyue resisted introducing himself to Lu Jizong.

  Sometimes a woman visited the apartment where his son and his mother lived. She always brought fruits and other gifts with her. She looked younger than thirty and dressed simply, but in clothes of exceptional quality. She was gorgeous. Lu Zhongyue didn’t think Chen Xiangtian could make a friend like that. But Lu Jizong seemed to trust the visitor. From time to time they took walks together, looking like a young couple.

  Lu Zhongyue was sure she wasn’t local but from a big city. He followed her and found out that she taught in the Miao village, and that her name was Ouyang Xiaozhi.

  But for the past month, Lu Zhongyue had not seen Lu Jizong, and the Ouyang woman had disappeared, too.

  Where had his son gone?

  Finally, Lu Zhongyue couldn’t stand the question any longer. One late night that spring he knocked on Chen Xiangtian’s door.

  “Who are you?” After twenty years, the mother of his child didn’t recognize him.

  Lu Zhongyue hid his face in the shadow outside the door. “Where did your son go?”

  “What?” Chen Xiangtian panicked. “What happened to him?”

  “He’s not in trouble.” He stepped inside, letting the light expose his face—especially his birthmark.

  Chen Xiangtian backed up and squinted, shaking her head in disbelief. “You are—it’s not possible!”

  “It is me.” He locked the door behind him. The room was a mess and smelled greasy.

  “Lu Zhongyue?” The woman clutched his shoulder, examined his face, and let go in fright. She cowered in a corner. “My curse!”

  “Not happy to see me?”

  Chen Xiangtian shook. “I—I—thought—”

  “You thought I’d died?” Lu Zhongyue stroked her sagging face. “Sometimes, I thought of you fondly. When I first met you in that bar in 1995? That was a great time.”

  “Let go of me!”

  “Didn’t you miss me all these years?”

  The woman slapped him. “I hate you!”

  “Sorry.” He found a place to sit. “I have to thank you for giving me a son.”

  “You don’t deserve to be his father!”

  “Where is Jizong?” He pinched Chen Xiangtian’s neck.

  She huffed, “He went out to work a month ago.”

  “Where?”

  “The city where we met. He said he could find you there.”

  “He went looking for me?” he said, releasing her from his grip.

  The woman coughed painfully. “Yes, he always wanted to know what his dad looked like. I told him you both had a forehead birthmark.”

  “Give me his phone number.”

  “His phone was disconnected a few days after he left. He hasn’t called me. We’ve been out of touch for weeks, and I’m really worried!”

  Lu Zhongyue paced back and forth. “What about that woman? The woman who’s always here. Who is she?”

  “You mean Xiaozhi? Isn’t she your cousin?”

  “Cousin? Do you have her phone number?”

  “Yes.” Chen Xiangtian took out her phone and gave Lu Zhongyue Xiaozhi’s number. “I called her about Jizong but she said she wasn’t sure.”

  “She’s lying.” Lu Zhongyue turned to leave.

  Chen Xiangtian pleaded from behind him, “Zhongyue, please don’t look for my son.”

  He noticed her eyes filling with fear. Though there were no warrants out for him in this city, she seemed to know he was a wanted man.

  Maybe Ouyang Xiaozhi had told her about what he’d done? If he left, would she call the cops?

  Lu Zhongyue flashed a rare smile and moved close to Chen Xiangtian to stroke her neck. “Xiangtian, maybe you’ve not missed me, but I’ve often missed you.”

  “Stop it.”

  “I did abandon you. I’m sorry about that.” He clutched her neck as he said the last word.

  His hands had killed before and now they tightened around her neck. Chen Xiangtian resisted and tried to kick him. But soon the sound of a slithering snake came out of her throat, until she shook all over and lost control of her bowels.

  She’d died in the hands of the man she once loved.

  Lu Zhongyue smoked as he stared at the dead body on the dirty floor. He thought she made an ugly corpse.

  Sorry, mother of my son, he thought, brushing off some ashes that had fallen on her body.

  He picked up the home phone and dialed the number Chen Xiangtian had given him. The soft voice that answered could have belonged to a college student.

  “Hello, is it Ouyang Xiaozhi?”

  “Yes, who is this?”

  Lu Zhongyue hung up. He walked out of the murder scene, careful to lock the door behind him.

  He went back to his rental room to pack and texted his employer to let him know he was quitting. He rushed to the long-distance bus stop and started on his way home.

  In two months it would be the nineteenth anniversary of Shen Ming’s death.

  CHAPTER 77

  “How many more storms can the flower weather? The spring passes so quickly. Pity the flower blooming too early. Wilted petals everywhere.”

  Ouyang Xiaozhi said this to the female student next to her as the two walked across the sports field. It was two months until the college entrance exams. The student reminded Ouyang Xiaozhi of herself when she was eighteen.

  “Ms. Ouyang, why do you like this Xin Qiji poem?”

  “Late spring and early summer are the best seasons for death.”

  A purple silk scarf draped her neck and her long hair flew in the wind, showing her distracted expression. Ouyang Xiaozhi had finished teaching the Miao village kids and returned to the city, where she was assigned to a downtown high school as a Chinese teacher who taught the liberal arts majors.

  “Shen Min, why are you always following me?”

  “Ms. Ouyang, you’re very different.”

  The student was very interested in her. She was in that moody stage of idolizing her teachers.

  Ouyang Xiaozhi laughed. “That’s what everyone says, men and women.”

  “Why didn’t you ever get married?”

  “I’ve always liked someone, but he couldn’t marry me.”

  “Is he married?”

  Girls today mature too fast, Xiaozhi thought, smiling b
itterly. “He’s been dead a long time.”

  The high school senior’s expression turned serious. “I like someone, too, but he can’t be with me. He says he’s a ghost.”

  Ouyang Xiaozhi whispered, “Don’t believe what boys tell you. Now, go back to the self-study room.”

  Watching the teenager walk away, Ouyang Xiaozhi picked up the fallen petals by the garden and blew on them. She became sad watching them fly away in the wind.

  Since returning to the city, she hadn’t seen Si Wang. He didn’t know she was back. But she was worried about running into him on the street, and she’d made it a point to avoid Nanming Road.

  Dressed in her work outfit, Ouyang Xiaozhi left the school at four o’clock. She took the subway to the old part of town where small restaurants and shops lined the streets. It became really lively at night. She went into a restaurant serving Fujian-style food. The place seemed reasonably clean. It was too early for dinner and the waiters were chatting and playing cards. She ordered a bowl of wontons.

  A tall, thin young man brought her food, hardly looking at his customer. Ouyang Xiaozhi put her money on the table and said, “If you’re not busy, stay and talk a while.”

  The young man was startled and then blushed when he saw who it was. “Aunt, you’re here.”

  “How have you been?”

  “Not bad.”

  Lu Jizong wore a plain jacket, and his hair was stained with kitchen grease. He seemed in good shape, but his expression seemed mixed, as though he had many things he couldn’t say.

  “Hey, your pretty aunt is here,” joked a chef who slapped him on the shoulder. “He likes it here and works hard every day. No idea where he gets the energy.”

  “Jizong, I’m very happy for you.”

  He shyly scratched his head. “It doesn’t pay much—just two grand a month—but I’m happy. They’re nice to me here. I want to work for another few years and then open my own place.”

  “That’s great. I can lend you some money if you need help then, though I don’t make much as a teacher.”

  Lu Jizong flashed a silly smile. He looked like a sunny young man, so different from the shy, introverted gamer from a few months ago.

  In the year she spent in the small Southern town, Ouyang Xiaozhi had hoped to find traces of Lu Zhongyue by getting close to his son. If the fugitive was still alive, this young man was the only person he still cared about. When in the small town, she’d felt that Lu Zhongyue was nearby, hiding in some dark corner. She always carried pepper spray.

  But the man was like a ghost, and he never showed up.

  It had only been a month since Ouyang Xiaozhi had brought Lu Jizong to the city. The kid had begged her to do so. He’d had enough of the suffocating town. He knew playing games every day was like killing himself slowly. He wanted to go to a big city, even if there was a price to pay. His mom knew he couldn’t be stopped and asked Ouyang Xiaozhi to keep an eye on him.

  Lu Jizong had been excited and nervous about the move. Xiaozhi found him a job at the restaurant. The owner was an honest Fujianese man who also gave him a place to stay, even if it only had a narrow window looking out at the high-rise next door.

  Lu Jizong changed his cell phone number right away and never contacted his mom. He asked Xiaozhi not to say anything if his mom called. Xiaozhi had never been a mom, but she could imagine how this would make Chen Xiangtian feel. Still, she promised him. She worried that lying to the young man would result in losing track of him, and her efforts of the past year would have been in vain.

  “Jizong, I need to ask you something,” Xiaozhi said, finishing her wontons. “Have you noticed anyone strange around you lately?”

  He frowned and shook his head. “No.”

  “If anyone weird comes looking for you—or if anything odd happens—please call me right away.”

  He was Xiaozhi’s bait.

  CHAPTER 78

  June 6, 2014.

  Liu Man had been found dead on the roof of the Nanming High library nineteen years ago.

  Now, it was Friday night just before nine o’clock. The streets were cooler than usual. Ye Xiao was wearing casual clothes and sitting at a street vendor’s stall, eating fried noodles and seafood.

  He saw Si Wang crossing the street toward him. The young man seemed more muscular lately, a very different person from the skinny kid he first met. Si Wang may have left the slums, but he still got into fights—though other people rarely started them. He was the only one brave enough to walk around at night, buying snacks from those Xinjiang cake vendors. Whenever he ran into thugs bothering people or pickpockets on buses, he always beat them up. He might have been brave, but he was no hero; people still treated him like a delinquent. He Qingying worried about her son. She was the only person who could still get away with slapping him.

  If not for Ye Xiao’s intervention, Si Wang would have been arrested and expelled from the school long ago. Ye Xiao had often told him to shape up.

  Si Wang ordered a skewer of beef tripe from the vendor and sat down in front of Ye Xiao. “I snuck out.”

  “If your mom knew she’d break your leg. Shouldn’t you be studying?”

  Tomorrow was the first day of the college entrance exams; most students were at home cramming. Only Si Wang had the time to invite out Ye Xiao for a late-night snack.

  “There is nothing to worry about. I’m afraid I’ll do too well and end up with the highest score in the city.”

  “Well, good luck!”

  “I didn’t come here to talk about school.” His eyes darkened. “Someone is always watching me lately.”

  “Who?” Ye Xiao looked around out of habit. People finished with their night shifts and nightclub call girls crowded around them to eat.

  “I’m not sure. I have a feeling it’s Lu Zhongyue.”

  Ye Xiao raised his eyebrows at hearing the name. “Does he have the guts?”

  “Don’t you want him to show up?”

  “That’s right!” The cop crushed the disposable cup in his hand. “If I’m not mistaken, the nineteenth anniversary of Shen Ming’s death is in thirteen days.”

  “It was June 19, 1995—ten o’clock in the Demon Girl Zone.”

  “Lu Zhongyue is the most devious and luckiest fugitive I’ve ever known. He won’t be stupid enough to come on that day.”

  “I’ve been waiting for it.”

  Ye Xiao noticed the young man’s vicious gaze and clutched his arm. “Kid, listen to me. Don’t go anywhere on June 19. Just stay home and protect your mom, OK?”

  “What about you?”

  “I know he won’t show up, but I’ll still go to Nanming High and the Demon Girl Zone.”

  “Let’s talk about something else. What’s the verdict on Ma Li?”

  “The City Middle-Level People’s Court announced their first sentence this morning.”

  As the officer responsible for the case Ye Xiao had been at the trial that morning. Liu Man’s father was there, too, and the old man was very emotional. He asked for an immediate death sentence.

  About six months ago, the city’s elite math teacher, Zhang Mingsong, was killed in his home; the killer was his student and star pupil from years ago, Ma Li.

  On the morning of the crime, Ma Li had turned himself in by dialing 1-1-0. He confessed his motive: Zhang Mingsong had molested him from 1994 to 1995. When his classmate Liu Man found out, Ma Li poisoned her and framed Shen Ming. Because this case involved the two other 1995 murders on Nanming Road, Ye Xiao quickly joined the investigation and interrogated the suspect.

  Ma Li was calm during the questioning. He felt guilty about Shen Ming’s death. He’d hated Zhang Mingsong for a long time. When he went to Zhang’s home that night, he stripped and tied up his victim before cutting his throat with a kitchen knife. As to why the scene was so messy, he said he’d been looking for Zhang’s photo c
ollection. But Zhang claimed to have destroyed the photos long ago.

  A few days later, everyone in the city knew about the Zhang Mingsong scandal. Graduates from many different classes spanning years came out in support of the truth. Five men said they were also molested by him. There was no telling how many victims would forever hide the secret.

  The most crucial evidence, the photos Zhang Mingsong took, never materialized.

  Ye Xiao and his colleagues combed the scene. The evidence they found mostly matched up with Ma Li’s account: The knife matched the victim’s wound; the knife handle was covered by Ma’s fingerprints; and the blood on Ma’s clothes matched the victim’s.

  Yet, Ye Xiao felt uneasy about one detail—Zhang Mingsong’s apartment door had been left open. Why would someone do this? Even though Ma Li swore he was the only one involved, he couldn’t explain where the rope had come from. At first he said he bought it online; later, he claimed to have found it on the street.

  “Don’t you find it odd?” Ye Xiao said to Si Wang.

  “It is weird.”

  Ye Xiao was testing him, but he really didn’t have much to go on other than a hunch. There were no third-person fingerprints and Zhang Mingsong’s hallway didn’t have surveillance cameras. The security guard only remembered seeing Ma Li, and it was easy for someone to avoid the lobby camera via the garage or stairs.

  “I looked up Ma Li’s cell phone records,” Ye Xiao said. “The last call he got was an hour before the crime. It came from a nearby pay phone. Ma Li said it was a wrong number. I pulled the surveillance video for the phone booth, but unfortunately the person was out of range.”

  Si Wang remained eerily quiet, keeping busy with his noodles.

  “Listen,” Ye Xiao continued, “we also pulled Ma Li’s phone records for the last couple years. Your number showed up, from about two years ago.”

  “I met him when I lived with the Gu family.”

  “Ma Li said he’d worked for the Erya Education Group. Before the Gu family went under, he worked as the GM assistant for Gu Qiusha. I asked him about you, and he said you were just an elementary school student he’d had no dealings with.” Ye Xiao paused and watched Si Wang carefully. “Was he lying?”