There was no sun that afternoon. The sky hung overcast, the wind had picked up, and rain lingered in that hesitant state where it seemed ready to fall yet hadn't.
In the midst of the long, sweltering summer, this counted as a rare, pleasant respite.
Li Sanjiang leaned back in a rattan chair, a cigarette pinched between the fingers of his left hand and a tea mug cradled in his right. An old-fashioned radio enclosed in a wooden casing on the wall was broadcasting the news.
Li Zhuiyuan sat beside him, head lowered as he ate watermelon.
On the radio, an update on the situation in the Middle East was playing.
Li Sanjiang sat up, stubbed his cigarette butt into a Jianlibao can filled with water, and gave the can a gentle shake.
"Great-Grandpa, have some melon."
"You eat. I'm not craving any."
"It isn't sweet."
"Oh, all right then."
Smiling, Li Sanjiang picked up a slice, assuming his great-grandson was merely teasing him to get him to eat.
He took a bite, only to curse at once.
"That heartless scoundrel! I told him to pick me a good one. He thumped and tapped all over the pile, and still ended up picking a dud. Here, take the rest and give them to Runsheng later."
"Runsheng-ge and the others have some."
"No matter how much there is, it's never enough for them. Before, it was just Runsheng eating like a horse; now Zhuangzhuang's appetite has picked up too."
"Binbin-ge has been using his brain a lot lately."
That morning, when Li Zhuiyuan had handed Tan Wenbin a whole notebook filled with math problems, he hadn't been able to see, but he had felt the air freeze for a solid half minute.
Tan Wenbin had hesitated several times, words caught in his throat, but in the end he had held his tongue.
At first, though, he simply tossed the math notebook aside without glancing at it.
It wasn't until he began studying the tools under Runsheng, and Li Zhuiyuan set aside time to teach him the basics of physiognomy and fortune-telling, that Tan Wenbin finally realized:
Certain things you tried to run from would simply wait for you further down the road.
He had thought he was stepping through a brand-new door, only to discover once inside that this door shared an entrance with the college entrance exams.
In the past, even if someone had beaten him to death, he would never have believed that learning to retrieve dead-flippers would require passing math, physics, and chemistry first.
Yet an earful of long-winded lectures truly couldn't compare to visiting a dead-flipper's house for a meal.
In the end, he picked up that notebook and started working through the problems.
His academic foundation had always been mediocre, and the problems were relatively difficult, so he worked very slowly. But at least he didn't give up again.
This had caused his appetite to surge recently, which delighted him, convincing him that his brain was growing.
"Speaking of which, why are they still fighting over there?" Li Sanjiang wiped his hands with a nearby cloth. "I remember they were already fighting when the nation was first founded. Back then, the village even put up banners with big characters supporting and cheering for them, opposing imperialism."
"Yeah, seems like it's been going on for a long time."
The news concluded, and the broadcast transitioned to the next program. A male and female host began chatting, bringing up the topic of reading.
The male host offered an example, saying there was a people who held knowledge in such high esteem that adults would spread honey on books so children reading through them would think knowledge was sweet.
He added that respect for knowledge and science was the reason this people had wandered for two thousand years and still remained vibrant.
The female host chimed in with great feeling, praising them as fully deserving of their reputation as the world's most intelligent people.
Li Sanjiang scratched his neck with the handle of his cattail fan. "Wait, that doesn't add up."
"Huh?"
"Xiao Yuanhou, tell me, how does the smartest people in the world manage to wander homeless for two thousand years?"
"You have a point, Great-Grandpa."
Just then, Ah Li came up the stairs, carrying a large bowl in her hands.
Smelling the herbal medicine, Li Zhuiyuan knew it was time for his dose.
Taking it from Ah Li, he placed it before him, picked up the spoon, and began swallowing it mouthful by mouthful.
Back when he had only suffered nosebleeds, the medicine Auntie Liu brewed had been relatively gentle. Ever since he had gone blind, the medicinal properties had grown far more potent, and the bitterness was sharp enough to numb the tongue.
Li Zhuiyuan could only reassure himself as he drank: good medicine tastes bitter.
Li Sanjiang watched the girl with a fond smile, nodding repeatedly.
After finishing the decoction, Li Zhuiyuan excused himself to Li Sanjiang and led Ah Li toward his room. Going inside first, he brought out three bottles of milk.
Li Sanjiang had earned a handsome sum lately. Three households of the Niu family had held funerals, and all had invited him to sit the rites.
Initially, when he heard that the three Niu siblings had all died around the same time, he had felt somewhat uneasy, suspecting his previous posthumous birthday rites hadn't been handled properly.
However, for one thing, the three siblings had already had terrible reputations in the village; for another, their families knew best how they had actually died.
Before the deaths, the younger generation had wished them dead just to be rid of the burden, but once they were gone, fear set in, dreading that the same fate might befall them.
They had rushed to invite Li Sanjiang to sit the rites, offering generous red envelopes.
So Li Sanjiang had gone. The rites fell on the same day, allowing him to handle three jobs in a single day. The money had come in so smoothly it felt like a breeze.
Right afterward, he had bought heaps of food and drinks for his great-grandson.
In Li Zhuiyuan's room, snacks filled cabinets, and beverages were stacked in crates.
If the boy hadn't stepped in to say it was enough, it wouldn't have been long before he could rival Aunt Zhang's village store.
Li Zhuiyuan didn't care much for this milk; it carried only a faint trace of milk flavor, tasting mostly of saccharin.
Still, Ah Li's first collection box was already packed full of Jianlibao cans. Now that she had started on a second, she naturally needed something new to put inside.
The boy and girl each held a drink and sat in rattan chairs.
They had already played chess that morning, so they didn't play again in the afternoon.
With his head bowed, Li Zhuiyuan faced the bare tabletop and began reading.
Though his eyes still couldn't see, he could still read. The books he had read were all stored in his mind, and now was the perfect time to pull them back up and mull them over.
Ah Li seemed to know what he was doing, sitting snugly beside him just as she always had.
Every time Li Zhuiyuan turned a page in his mind, he would habitually look toward her, and she would lift her head to meet his gaze, their eyes intersecting in a connection that did not physically exist.
He read on like this until dusk, as the light slowly faded.
Auntie Liu called out, "Dinner's ready!"
Li Zhuiyuan stood up and gently stretched. Reading like this was rather convenient; he never had to worry about poor lighting straining his eyes.
Going downstairs for dinner, Liu Yumei said, "Tomorrow morning, Ah Ting and I will be taking Ah Li out for a trip."
At those words, the chopsticks Li Sanjiang had just lifted slipped right from his grip.
"We'll try to be back by the evening of the day after."
Li Sanjiang retrieved his chopsticks, wiped them against his sleeve, and let out a sigh of relief.
Runsheng said, "No worries, I'll do the cooking."
Li Sanjiang snapped at him, "You want us all to eat incense ash with you? For these two days, we'll make do with rice porridge and a few pickled vegetables. It'll do our stomachs good to clear out anyway."
After dinner, Ah Li went inside to bathe, and Liu Yumei waved toward Li Zhuiyuan.
Li Zhuiyuan didn't react.
Only then did Liu Yumei remember, calling out, "Xiao Yuan, come over here for a moment."
"Coming, Grandma."
"Care for some tea?"
"Grandma, drinking tea right after a meal isn't good for digestion."
"It's just an excuse to talk."
"Go ahead, then."
"Strictly speaking, I shouldn't be taking Ah Li away from here right now, but tomorrow is a special date, so we have no choice but to make this trip."
"Grandma, this is your family matter, and Ah Li really ought to go."
"Did you guess what we're going to do tomorrow?"
"How could I?"
"Heh, if your eyes hadn't been like this, we ought to have taken you along for some fresh air, but I imagine you wouldn't be in the mood right now."
"Grandma, you don't need to worry about me."
"All right, that's that, then. Ah Ting will brew tomorrow's and the day after's medicine in advance. Remember to take it on time."
"Yes, I will."
Li Zhuiyuan walked back, stopping when he reached Runsheng and Tan Wenbin.
Runsheng slid a low stool behind Li Zhuiyuan, while Tan Wenbin supported his arm to help him sit down.
The television was showing the drama series *Chen Zhen*, starring Bruce Leung.
Runsheng watched while crafting paper effigies, while Tan Wenbin worked on math problems.
Hearing the scratching of a pen on scratch paper, Li Zhuiyuan couldn't help saying, "Binbin-ge, why don't you bring the desk lamp down from my room later?"
"All right." Tan Wenbin nodded without standing on ceremony; Xiao Yuan couldn't use it right now anyway.
At night, Runsheng liked to move the television out into the courtyard so he could work while watching, which made cleanup easier.
A pole stood outside, dangling a single light bulb overhead. The brightness was decent, but the angle wasn't great.
Runsheng asked, "Where is Ah Li's family heading tomorrow?"
"I don't know. Probably some business to attend to."
In truth, Li Zhuiyuan had roughly guessed: Liu Yumei was likely going to sweep the graves of Ah Li's parents.
He had recognized early on that Uncle Qin and Auntie Liu were not Ah Li's biological parents, merely acting as such in name.
"Xiao Yuan, does that mean you're free tomorrow?"
"School hasn't started yet. When am I not free?"
Tan Wenbin muttered softly, "You're free even when school starts."
"When I delivered paper goods during the day, I passed the town market and saw someone had set up a small stage to tell stories. A whole crowd was listening. I asked, and he'll be there tomorrow too. Xiao Yuan, I'll take you to listen tomorrow."
"Sounds great."
Li Zhuiyuan didn't want to brush off Runsheng's kindness; he was only trying hard to find some amusement for his sightless companion.
The next morning, Li Zhuiyuan deliberately rose very early. But when he went downstairs to the east room, his hands met only a padlock on the door.
Liu Yumei and the others must have departed before dawn.
Leaving early allowed them to return early as well.
Li Zhuiyuan simply felt around for a stool and sat down in the courtyard.
"Ah, Xiao Yuan, you're up so early." Runsheng rubbed his eyes as he climbed down from the table where he slept. "I'll make breakfast."
"Runsheng-ge, let's eat in town."
"All right, I'll set some instant noodles on the stove so Great-Uncle can cook them when he wakes up." Runsheng hurried into the kitchen and quickly bounded out again, patting Tan Wenbin awake and urging, "Up and wash your face. We're going to town."
Tan Wenbin yawned. Though far from well-rested, he nodded.
After freshening up, Runsheng pedaled the tricycle, ferrying Li Zhuiyuan and Tan Wenbin toward Shinan Town.
Several tables were arranged outside the breakfast shop. The three deliberately chose the outermost corner table because Runsheng wanted to smoke a cigarette.
Li Zhuiyuan ordered three bowls of small wontons and three steamer baskets of soup dumplings.
He had intended to order more, but Runsheng stopped him.
When the wontons and dumplings were served, Li Zhuiyuan asked with concern, "Runsheng-ge, will this be enough to fill you up?"
"Xiao Yuan, feel this."
Runsheng pressed a dry, hard slice of something into Li Zhuiyuan's hand. As the boy felt along it, he noticed a rough texture and tiny holes.
"Steamed bun slice?"
*Rustle, rustle.* Runsheng shook the bag in his hand. "Heh-heh, I brought a big bag of them. Perfect for soaking in wonton soup."
"Runsheng-ge..."
"Xiao Yuan, you eat your share. I just wanted a taste of something fresh. You know how much I eat. If I ate my fill at an outside stall, wouldn't that just be squandering money?"
"Give me a few too." Tan Wenbin reached out and grabbed a handful. In the past, he probably would have grandly declared, *Eat whatever you want, my treat!* Now he didn't. Back then they hadn't known each other well, but now they were close friends.
Li Zhuiyuan took a hard bite of a dried bun slice. He couldn't bite through it, so he dropped it into his bowl to soak.
Beside him, Runsheng munched with loud, crisp crunches, and along with Tan Wenbin, even asked the owner for another bowl of soup.
"Phew... satisfying."
*Burp...*
Having eaten their fill, the two big eaters patted their stomachs. They must have rolled up their shirts, for the pats landed with muffled slaps against bare flesh.
"Hey, got any left? Give me a slice too."
Li Zhuiyuan's ears twitched. It was the first time he had heard the Nantong dialect spoken with the cadence of a radio announcer.
"Two slices left." Runsheng picked them up and handed them over.
"Good, that'll do."
The man sat down at their table carrying a bowl of noodles or wontons. Then he twisted open a jar lid, and the scent of fermented bean curd soon drifted through the air, carrying a faint tang of chili.
Tan Wenbin sniffed and asked, "Why is your fermented bean curd that color?"
"This is Sichuan-style bean curd—made with chili peppers, you see."
Spoken in another radio-announcer tone, this time in Sichuan dialect.
"Hey, you're the one telling stories on the stage yesterday!" Runsheng slapped his forehead. "Without your long gown, I didn't even recognize you."
"Heh, you here to listen to a story today?"
"You bet, came specially for it."
"Well now, that makes you honored guests. It's still early for the show, but if you'd treat me to a cup of tea, I'll tell one just for the three of you once I finish breakfast."
"Sure thing," Li Zhuiyuan agreed.
Once the man finished his breakfast, he said, "After you."
The three followed him to the foot of the stage. It was a crude setup—merely a few wooden crates stacked together to form a small platform, with two canvas banners hung behind it.
Runsheng went to a small shop to buy a bottle of mineral water. When he returned, he saw Li Zhuiyuan pull out some money and hand it to the storyteller, who accepted it with a smile.
Only then did Runsheng realize that "treating him to tea" was slang for a tip, not an instruction to literally buy a bottle of water.
The sum wasn't large, roughly the cost of two cans of Jianlibao.
The storyteller didn't climb onto the stage. Instead, he took a seat on a long wooden bench he had set up below, sitting face-to-face with the three boys.
He began with a brief prologue, introducing himself as an itinerant wanderer named Yu Shu, newly arrived in this fine land to make friends, broaden his horizons, and earn a bite to eat.
Then he launched into his tale: Li Shimin, Prince of Qin, crushing Dou Jiande before Hulao Pass.
Because his audience consisted of three young men, he used standard Mandarin rather than the local dialect. His cadence rose and fell with dramatic flair, the narrative gripping and vivid, interspersed with impressive vocal sound effects.
Runsheng and Tan Wenbin listened spellbound, clapping and cheering from time to time.
Li Zhuiyuan clapped along, but inwardly he was startled. Which master had wandered into the common world to experience life like this?
This man was clearly an outsider, yet he could pick up the local tongue immediately wherever he went, and his storytelling craft was undeniably top-tier.
Even if the traditional performing arts market was suffering a severe slump these days, it shouldn't have driven someone of this caliber to wander the dusty roads.
The climax peaked with Li Shimin leading his Black-Armored Cavalry in relentless charges against Dou Jiande's center ranks, and the tale wound down with Li Shimin returning in triumph to the imperial court, invested as the Grand General of Tiance.
The story was thrilling, the performance superb. In the dead heat of summer, it felt like eating a large slice of chilled, sweet watermelon, refreshing from head to toe.
Though Li Zhuiyuan couldn't see, his ears had enjoyed a genuine feast—and in a private, face-to-face performance, no less. It had been well worth the money.
Li Zhuiyuan reached into his pocket once more.
"No need. You already paid for the tea. None of you are working or earning yet, so how could I take another tip? Besides, didn't you already reward me with two slices of steamed bun?"
"You told it wonderfully," Li Zhuiyuan said sincerely.
"You flatter me. Young man, is something wrong with your eyes?"
"They'll heal."
"That's good. What's your name?"
"Li Zhuiyuan."
"Li Zhuiyuan, Li Zhuiyuan... Have you always gone by the surname Li?"
"What else would it be?"
Tan Wenbin, still longing for more, asked, "Could you tell another section?"
"Can't manage it. Need to save my breath for the noon performance."
Tan Wenbin nodded. "Then we'll wait."
"Oh, no need for that. The noon show is the exact same piece, just padded out a bit—chatting about Li Yuan and Li Jiancheng at the Tang court, then rambling on about Wang Shichong inside Luoyang. Not worth your wait."
"That's a pity. What about tonight?"
"The same piece again, just with even more padding."
Tan Wenbin was speechless.
"A man wandering to scrape a living only has so much in his belly. How could I spill it all out at once? Besides, hardly anyone in these parts has the time to sit through multiple shows a day. Those with the leisure generally don't have the coin."
Li Zhuiyuan asked curiously, "Master Yu, where is your hometown?"
"Son, are you asking where my ancestral home is?"
"Yes."
"I really couldn't say. My parents passed away early. Ever since I was little, I've wandered along the Yangtze River, from the mountain city of Chongqing to Jingchu and down to this river mouth, back and forth through the four seasons. If you look at it that way, my hometown is probably the river itself."
A smile appeared on Li Zhuiyuan's face, as if he had heard an amusing reply. Yet his heart sank quietly, because he had once heard a very similar answer from Liu Yumei.
"It's still early, so how about I tell you three a slightly scarier little tale?"
"Great, great!" Runsheng clapped.
"I love those!" Tan Wenbin clenched his fists in excitement.
Yu Shu began his story.
He had barely started when Li Zhuiyuan noticed something amiss. Set in the transition between the Ming and Qing dynasties, the story followed a scholar traveling by boat to the capital for imperial examinations. The boat capsized, plunging him into the water, where he was saved by a lady surnamed Bai. Smitten with affection, the scholar addressed her as Lady Bai.
Before the man could continue, Li Zhuiyuan clutched his eyes and drew a sharp breath. "Runsheng-ge, Binbin-ge, my eyes hurt so much. Take me home so I can drink my medicine."
For anything else, the two would never have agreed to leave just then. But when it came to Xiao Yuan's eyes, neither dared delay. Bidding Yu Shu farewell, they quickly hoisted Xiao Yuan onto the tricycle and rushed homeward.
On the road back, facing anxious inquiries from Runsheng and Tan Wenbin, Li Zhuiyuan chose to share his suspicion.
"Ge, my eyes don't hurt. I suspect that man's identity."
The tale had already reached Lady Bai; if it continued, dead-flippers would inevitably appear, and the change in Runsheng and Tan Wenbin's expressions would surely be caught by the storyteller's sharp eyes.
That was why Li Zhuiyuan had feigned eye pain to make an early exit.
After hearing Li Zhuiyuan's explanation, Runsheng marveled as he pedaled, "Sounds like we ran into someone from the trade."
Tan Wenbin stared blankly for a long moment, puzzled. "Is everyone in our line of work this multitalented?"
Runsheng retorted, "You've got talent too. You know how to make paper effigies."
Tan Wenbin rolled his eyes. "Gee, thanks a lot."
Though surprised, neither Runsheng nor Tan Wenbin felt frightened. First, they hadn't experienced the incident with Lady Bai themselves, and second, they didn't know Liu Yumei's true background.
The former touched on Liangliang's personal privacy, while the latter involved secrets of the Qin and Liu families; Li Zhuiyuan couldn't speak of them casually.
When they reached home, they found Great-Grandpa wasn't there, though the instant noodles on the stove had been cooked and eaten. He had probably gone out.
The three returned to their respective tasks. Li Zhuiyuan resumed "reading," Runsheng watched television, and Binbin worked on problems.
At lunchtime, Great-Grandpa still hadn't returned, so Runsheng cooked porridge.
At dinner, Great-Grandpa was still absent, so Runsheng cooked porridge once more.
Though porridge wasn't bad, moving from luxury to frugality was always tough. With Auntie Liu away, everyone's quality of life suffered a steep decline.
Moreover, without Auntie Liu's regular calls announcing breakfast, lunch, and dinner, Li Zhuiyuan felt his biological clock falling out of rhythm.
As they scooped their porridge that evening, Tan Wenbin voiced his suspicion. "Hah, the one who suggested drinking porridge was Old Master Li, yet the one who stayed out to feast was also Old Master Li."
No one was particularly worried about Great-Grandpa, since Li Sanjiang was frequently held back for meals and drinks by villagers.
On that quiet summer night, Runsheng and Tan Wenbin continued following *Chen Zhen*.
Li Zhuiyuan sat beside them, doing his bedtime eye exercises. Just as he reached the step of pressing his temples and massaging the eye sockets, the sound of cars and a motorcycle echoed from the distant village road.
As if struck by an electric shock, Tan Wenbin flipped around, scrambling from in front of the television to the small table where his homework lay. With a sharp click, he flicked on the desk lamp and instantly assumed the posture of deep, pensive study.
Runsheng looked back at him. "What's wrong with you?"
Li Zhuiyuan guessed, "Binbin-ge, is Uncle Tan coming?"
"Yeah!"
He knew the sound of his father's motorcycle by heart. Ever since childhood, whenever he snuck TV at home, the moment he heard that engine, he would shut off the screen and dive into his homework.
Yet they waited and waited, but the motorcycle never came over, nor did anyone step into the courtyard.
Runsheng asked, puzzled, "Did your dad disown you?"
"Your dad disowned you!"
"My dad already did disown me."
"Damn it, that's cheating."
After a pause, Tan Wenbin added softly, "Sorry."
Runsheng chuckled. "Heh-heh-heh."
Tan Wenbin stood up. "My dad isn't here for me. Xiao Yuan, Runsheng, want to go take a look? Maybe another case broke out in the village."
Runsheng shook his head. "Not going. The best part starts right after the commercials."
"I'll go with you, Binbin-ge."
"All right, let's go, Xiao Yuan."
Tan Wenbin took Li Zhuiyuan by the hand and led him out. As they passed Aunt Zhang's store, Tan Wenbin asked where the car and motorcycle had gone.
Aunt Zhang, cracking melon seeds, glanced northwest. "Headed toward where Big Beard used to live."
On the way to Big Beard's old house, Tan Wenbin asked worriedly, "Xiao Yuan-ge, why do you think my dad and the others went there? Could things have been found out?"
"I don't know." Li Zhuiyuan shook his head.
If anything were to give them away, it would be the exposure of the dead water monkeys' identities in the cart.
Several police cars and motorcycles were parked outside Big Beard's old home, officers holding flashlights and sweeping the beams around.
There shouldn't be anything to find now, however. The fish pond had been filled in, and the wide patch of ground above was planted with saplings.
"Hey, Xiao Yuan-ge, I see Old Master Li. He's in the courtyard."
"Is my great-grandpa all right?"
"He's fine. Not in handcuffs. He's even smoking a cigarette."
"Binbin? Is that Binbin?"
"It's me, Uncle Zhao."
"Heh, what are you doing out here?"
"My relatives live here, so I've been staying with them to play."
"All right, I'll go call your dad."
"Uncle Zhao, tell my dad that Xiao Yuan came with me."
"Got it."
Before long, Tan Yunlong walked over.
"Dad!" Tan Wenbin waved enthusiastically.
"Out of the way." Tan Yunlong brushed past his son, stepped up to Li Zhuiyuan, and lowered his voice. "Someone came down from higher up. Our station picked up your great-grandpa this morning, had lunch together at noon, and visited several places this afternoon—Xiting Town, Shigang, all the spots where your great-grandpa retrieved corpses."
"Uncle, who is this person?"
"I'm not sure, but probably not someone from criminal investigation."
"Is my great-grandpa in trouble?"
"No, they just came to get an understanding of the situation, using him as a guide to recount what happened back then. This house and the surrounding land are all registered under your great-grandpa's name, right?"
"Yes."
"Don't worry, nothing's wrong. We're wrapping up and heading out soon."
"Thank you, Uncle."
"Nothing to thank me for. It wasn't an investigation, and no confidentiality rules were involved."
A familiar voice sounded from not far away. "All right, thank you all for your hard work running around with me all day."
Immediately after, Li Zhuiyuan heard an exchange between his great-grandpa and that man: "Old Master, it's really been hard on you today."
"Nothing of the sort, just cooperating with official work."
"Head back early and get some rest."
"You too, heh-heh."
That voice belonged to Yu Shu.
"Oh? Little fellow, what are you doing here?" Yu Shu noticed Li Zhuiyuan.
Li Zhuiyuan countered, "Huh, Master Storyteller, what are you doing here?"
"No one came to listen to the noon show, so I packed up my stall and took on a part-time job."
As Yu Shu spoke, he crouched before Li Zhuiyuan and patted the boy's head.
"Little fellow, is your home here?"
Li Sanjiang finished handing out cigarettes and walked over. Seeing this, he said at once, "That's my great-grandson, heh-heh. This house will belong to him in the future."
"Your great-grandson?" Yu Shu appeared quite surprised. "Your biological one?"
"Of course! My will has his name written all over it."
"Oh, is that so? A very clever child. I like him a lot."
"Naturally! My Xiao Yuanhou is as sharp as they come."
"All right, Old Master Li, I'm taking off. If there's a chance in the future, I'll buy you a drink."
"Anytime, anytime!"
Tan Yunlong took the initiative to approach Yu Shu. "Any plans for tomorrow?"
"None. Nothing is amiss here, everything's clean. I'll be leaving tomorrow. Thank you for your trouble, Captain Tan."
"I was just following orders."
The police officers at Big Beard's former home began dispersing. Li Sanjiang led the two boys back. Along the way, Li Sanjiang kept complaining about how bizarre the day had been—being picked up by a police car in the morning, dragged across several towns in the afternoon, and finally ending up in their own village.
Still, it hadn't been a total loss; before leaving, the man had slipped him a carton of cigarettes.
As Li Zhuiyuan listened, he pondered the storyteller's identity. Clearly, storytelling was merely his side gig, yet for someone to perform a side gig with that level of skill was rare indeed.
Then again, taking a step back, since the man was working alongside the police, he certainly wasn't an evil person.
There was no need for him to worry.
Back in the courtyard, Runsheng was still crafting paper effigies while watching television.
Li Sanjiang walked over and gave him a knuckle-rap on the head, to which Runsheng merely grinned.
Tan Wenbin sat down, picking up wicker strips with practiced ease to assist in paper crafting, lamenting, "If I'd known, I would have brought my homework along."
Just as Li Zhuiyuan was about to head upstairs, his ears twitched. He whispered, "Binbin-ge, hurry back to your homework."
"Huh?"
Even as the questioning murmur left his lips, muscle memory took over. He dropped his work, twisted around in another sleek pivot, sat at the small desk, picked up his pen, and put on his pondering face.
Soon, Tan Yunlong stepped into the courtyard.
Hearing those familiar footsteps, the corner of Tan Wenbin's mouth curled up in secret satisfaction.
To his surprise, Tan Yunlong walked over and slapped the back of his head, scolding, "Who are you trying to fool?"
Tan Wenbin felt terribly wronged, thinking: *Dad, I'm studying so hard, why are you still misunderstanding me?*
*Click!*
The next instant, Tan Yunlong flipped the switch, and the desk lamp lit up.
Tan Wenbin was struck dumb.
Runsheng had moved the television outside, working by its glow alone.
Tan Wenbin was used to doing homework beside Runsheng, but because Xiao Yuan had lent him the desk lamp, he hadn't bothered turning on the overhead bulb on the pole.
So from his father's perspective, he had just been sitting there working on homework in near-total darkness.
Tan Yunlong set down a bag of items—folk remedies his wife had specially tracked down.
He had screened them carefully; none were toxic.
"Xiao Yuan, I forgot to give these to you earlier. Take them as you see fit."
"Yes, thank you, Uncle Tan. My eyes will be better soon. When the time comes, I'll have to ask you to take me to register for school."
"Of course. Once your eyes are healed, we'll go. The school over there said you can report whenever you like, entirely at your convenience."
"Yes, thank you, Uncle Tan."
Tan Yunlong turned to leave, but paused before his son, picking up the notebook from the small desk. He flipped it open, seeing it densely covered with worked-out solutions.
"Dad, these are problems Xiao Yuan wrote for me."
"Mm, study hard." Tan Yunlong set the notebook down, patted his son's head, and walked away.
Every night, Runsheng watched television until the station signed off.
When the color test pattern appeared on the screen, he turned the set off, glancing back to find Tan Wenbin still working on his problems.
"Aren't you going to sleep?"
"You go ahead. I'll do a few more."
"Oh."
Runsheng washed up and went to bed.
When he woke in the morning, he found the nearby round table empty. Turning his head, he saw Tan Wenbin slumped over the small desk, fast asleep with the pen still in his hand.
Runsheng walked over to the puppy's cage and stroked its head.
The little black dog opened its eyes to glance at him, then rolled over and went back to sleep.
Runsheng muttered, "Useless."
After waking up, apart from coming down to eat porridge, Li Zhuiyuan spent the rest of his time on the second-floor terrace.
For several days straight, he had mentally reviewed the *Liu Clan Qi-Gazing Formula* and the *Qin Clan Flood Dragon Contemplation Method*. He had wondered whether losing his physical sight might allow him to develop a new understanding of geomancy.
Reality proved he had overthought it.
These days of rumination had taught him only two things: first, fortune-tellers who posed as blind men were generally unreliable; second, one had to protect one's eyes at all costs.
That night, Li Zhuiyuan waited outside for a long time, but Liu Yumei and the others did not return.
Hearing the television downstairs let out the static beep of station sign-off, Li Zhuiyuan went into his room, completed a round of eye exercises, and lay down to sleep.
When he woke, he habitually opened his eyes and turned his head to look.
He saw a girl in a white dress, a flower hairpin in her hair, sitting there with demure elegance.
His first thought was: *she's still so pretty.*
And then:
*Oh.*
*My sight is back.*
Chapter 49