Chapter Eleven: The Missing Person of Wuzhou

Soon after, Wanqing glanced at Jiang Xinyue, who was sitting by the window, and smiled, nodding at her in greeting.

"Wanqing, let me introduce you. This is Old Zhang's younger sister, Jiang Xinyue," Cheng Che said.

"Hello, my name is Wanqing. It's a pleasure to meet you," Wanqing said, extending her hand with practiced ease.

They must have met before, though their previous encounter had been awkward. Caught off guard, Jiang Xinyue hesitated for a moment, looking at the slender, pale hand before her, her expression unexpectedly sullen. Out of courtesy, she forced a smile and shook Wanqing's hand.

"Hello, it's nice to meet you too."

Introductions over, they fell into casual conversation. Wanqing revealed that she was also headed to Wuzhou on a business trip. She hadn't been the one originally assigned, but her colleague fell ill, so her boss had sent her instead.

As Jiang Xinyue listened to their cheerful chatter, she turned away to gaze out the window.

Sensing the awkwardness, Cheng Che offered Wanqing his seat and, to lighten the mood, pulled out a deck of cards from his bag and winked at Zhang Qinglin, suggesting they play together. The carriage soon filled with laughter and chatter. When night fell, everyone drifted off to sleep, lulled by the gentle rocking of the train.

A sudden jolt, neither too harsh nor too mild, roused Zhang Qinglin from his drowsy slumber. He sat up slowly, eyes bleary, the dim lights in the carriage casting long shadows. He glanced around.

Jiang Xinyue was asleep against the window. Wanqing was nowhere to be seen, nor was Cheng Che.

Rubbing his eyes, Zhang Qinglin lay back down and dozed off again. He didn’t know how much time had passed before someone shook him awake—it was Cheng Che.

Cheng Che told him they now had sleeper berths, and together with Jiang Xinyue, they made their way to the sleeper car. Wanqing had purchased additional tickets for them, and the four of them traveled comfortably to Wuzhou.

By the time they arrived, night had fallen. Wanqing said she’d booked a hotel nearby in advance, insisting they spend the night there for safety, since there were no buses to the county at that hour.

They followed Wanqing to a hotel near the train station. The environment was pleasant and the price reasonable. After two days and nights on the train, exhaustion overwhelmed them, and they all retired to their rooms early.

At dawn, Wanqing knocked on their door, saying there was a morning bus to Siyue County. Zhang Qinglin went to call Jiang Xinyue, but no matter how long he knocked, there was no response.

Cheng Che and Wanqing joined him. When a staff member opened the door, they found the room empty—Jiang Xinyue was gone.

"Did Xinyue already head to the county?" Cheng Che asked, looking around the room.

"Why would she leave alone? She doesn’t know anyone here. What if something happens? Don’t worry, I’ll ask some friends around here to help look for her," Wanqing said, turning to make a call.

"Thank you, Wanqing. Cheng Che, let’s go to the bus station," Zhang Qinglin said, returning to pack his belongings.

Cheng Che said his goodbyes to Wanqing and left for the bus station with Zhang Qinglin.

Zhang Qinglin’s heart was heavy with worry. As Wanqing had said, a young woman alone in a strange city was exposed to countless dangers. If anything happened to Jiang Xinyue, how could he ever face Uncle Jiang?

He and Cheng Che boarded a fast bus to Siyue County. The bus sped along, jostling them so much it felt as if their anxious hearts would leap out of their chests.

Within forty minutes, they entered the county, catching sight of mountains to the east and green plains to the west, with ancient buildings rising in the distance. The bus stopped at the eastern station.

Getting off, they gazed at the looming mountains, Zhang Qinglin feeling as though he’d stepped into the very heart of the wilderness.

They hailed a motor tricycle and followed the address on their parcel.

As they traveled, Zhang Qinglin couldn’t help but marvel at the dilapidated houses and old-fashioned clothing on either side of the road. Siyue County was only forty-six kilometers from Wuzhou, yet the difference was vast.

Number 18, Cliffside Road, was in a narrow alleyway, barely wide enough for two people to walk side by side. The ground was rough and uneven, making it hard for the tricycle to pass. Zhang Qinglin and Cheng Che got off at the entrance. The alley was lined with stone walls over two meters high; the three houses in a row all had brick-red doors, spaced about three meters apart. Above each door was a round mirror.

The deeper they went, the narrower the path became. As Zhang Qinglin walked, he was struck by a strange sense of familiarity—as if he’d been here before.

"Hey, number 18 is right here. Old Zhang, come over," Cheng Che called, stopping before the last house.

Though the door was the same brick red as the others, Zhang Qinglin felt this house was somehow different, though he couldn’t say how.

Cheng Che knocked twice. No answer. He knocked several more times—still no response.

At that moment, a figure appeared at the mouth of the alley. Upon seeing them, the person turned and fled.

Zhang Qinglin and Cheng Che gave chase, following the stranger onto a wide street. Dressed in ragged clothes, the person quickly vanished among the crowds at the nearby market.

Cheng Che ran after him, shouting, "Stop! Stop!"

By the time Zhang Qinglin caught up, both Cheng Che and the stranger had disappeared.

Panic set in. Jiang Xinyue had vanished without a word, and now Cheng Che had run off after a stranger. Most distressing of all, they didn’t even know whether Uncle Jiang had ever been here, or if he still was. All around, unfamiliar faces and figures pressed in on Zhang Qinglin.

Then, he caught sight of a back, one he recognized immediately. He hurried after it, following into a narrow lane. The familiar figure stopped ahead.

Zhang Qinglin stepped forward and called, "Uncle Jiang? Uncle Jiang, is that you?"

The figure slowly turned. In that instant, a sharp pain pierced Zhang Qinglin’s head, and everything went black.

When he awoke, he was lying on a large heated brick bed, his head throbbing. Frowning, he saw Cheng Che entering with a glass of water.

Seeing him awake, Cheng Che hurried over, relieved. "Old Zhang, you scared me half to death. How are you feeling?"

"What happened? Where am I?" Zhang Qinglin asked, rubbing his head, confused as to how he had lost consciousness. Then he added, "Where’s Uncle Jiang? I saw him."

Cheng Che handed him the water, looking startled. "Uncle Jiang? You saw him? Where? And what about Xinyue?"

Zhang Qinglin was bewildered by the flurry of questions. Xinyue? He hadn’t seen her. All he could think was: I saw Uncle Jiang. It really was him.

Cheng Che continued, "I chased that guy, but lost him halfway. When I came back, you were gone. After searching a couple of streets, I found a crowd gathered and discovered you had fainted. A kind old lady called for help and had you brought here on a flat cart."

Holding his forehead, Zhang Qinglin asked, "So you didn’t see Uncle Jiang?"

At that moment, the old lady entered, carrying a steaming bowl of rice porridge. Her kindly face was gentle and amiable, though she was short and walked with a slight limp. She seemed to take a special liking to the two young men, her smile warm as she brought the porridge to Zhang Qinglin.

Cheng Che stepped forward to take the bowl. "Thank you, Grandma. Old Zhang, here you go."

He turned to the old lady. "Please, Grandma, no need to trouble yourself. He’s all right now. Go rest, and thank you for everything." He guided her out politely.

"Thank you, Grandma," Zhang Qinglin called after her, his gratitude sincere.

When Cheng Che returned, he leaned in and whispered, "Old Zhang, do you know whose house this is?"

Zhang Qinglin shook his head, still puzzled by Cheng Che’s cryptic tone.

"This is number 18. I just asked. Grandma said she lives here with her grandson. He’s not home yet. We’ll wait and get to the bottom of things," Cheng Che explained.

Afternoon approached, and the old lady suggested they stay the night.

As dusk fell, Zhang Qinglin sat in the courtyard on a bamboo chair, gazing up at the flies darting along the stone wall.

Cheng Che helped the old lady with small chores. When dinner was ready and the table set, the brick-red door creaked open. A young man stumbled in, breathless, calling, "Grandma! Grandma!"

Zhang Qinglin looked up to see the newcomer gazing blankly at a pink butterfly hair clip in his hand.

It was the same furtive figure they’d seen that morning at the alley. As soon as Cheng Che saw what he was holding, he became excited and tried to snatch it, but the young man held on fiercely.

"Old Zhang, don’t let him get away! That’s Xinyue’s hair clip!"

They struggled to wrest the clip from his grasp, pressing him for how he’d come by it, but he wouldn’t answer.

The old lady intervened, explaining that her grandson, Dazhuang, was suffering from dementia. She couldn’t afford treatment, and his condition was worsening. She begged them not to pressure him further.

Seeing no other way, Zhang Qinglin and Cheng Che let the matter drop, though neither slept well that night, worried that Dazhuang might run off.

At dawn, Cheng Che sat on the steps by the door, watching the entrance.

Dazhuang shuffled out, and Cheng Che blocked his path, hands on hips. "Dazhuang, where are you going? Tell me, did you send a lighter to Beijing? And where did you get that hair clip?"

Hearing voices, Zhang Qinglin hurried out and pulled Cheng Che aside. "Don’t wake Grandma. Let’s talk outside." Together, they led Dazhuang out of the yard.

Standing with Dazhuang between them, Cheng Che on the left, Zhang Qinglin on the right, they pressed him against the wall.

"You’re bad people… all bad people," Dazhuang muttered, twisting his hands in his clothes, both frightened and unwilling to shout.

"I’m asking you—did you send a lighter to Beijing?" Cheng Che demanded, leaning against the wall.

Suddenly, Dazhuang’s eyes flashed. He shoved Cheng Che aside and bolted.

The two of them chased Dazhuang all the way to the eastern hills behind the house.