The two of them returned home from the park. As they unlocked the door, the lights flickered on like flowing water, brushing over their skin and washing away the lingering gloom brought by Hu Yuan.
Huo Ranyin sat down on the sofa.
He closed his eyes for a brief moment. Feeling a subtle coolness on his face, he opened them to find a glass of vodka with a generous amount of ice placed before him.
“Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.” Ji Xun poured a glass for himself as well. “You looked like you wanted a drink to ease the pressure. Coincidentally, so do I.”
He raised his glass and clinked it gently against Huo Ranyin’s.
A few crisp clinks echoed as the ice cubes collided and jostled blindly in the pale gold liquid like translucent fish.
Huo Ranyin smiled faintly and took a few sips. He felt the icy liquid slide along the tip of his tongue and down his esophagus; before it could even settle into his stomach, it had already vaporized into a surge of fierce heat that rushed straight to his head.
Carrying this slight dizziness, Huo Ranyin asked, “When are you leaving?”
“Hmm… didn’t you skip a lot of things you should have said just now?” Ji Xun had already bypassed Huo Ranyin and curled up comfortably on the other end of the sofa. Holding his glass with both hands, he took sips like a little bird pecking at water, bit by bit.
Finding the sight amusing, Huo Ranyin indulged him by filling in the blanks of the trivial talk that was otherwise meaningless to them: “We can’t ignore what Hu Yuan said, but it’s not a formal clue we can report directly to the higher-ups either. Under these circumstances, I still have ongoing work and can’t take time off to leave. You can only act alone and head to Fu Province to investigate the situation—so, when are you leaving?”
“Right after I wake up.”
That means tomorrow, Huo Ranyin thought. He quietly listened as Ji Xun continued speaking.
“Tomorrow, I’ll go see my grandfather first,” Ji Xun said in a deep voice. “I didn’t mention this to you before because I hadn’t made any correlation myself… Grandfather is originally from Fu Province, but he has always held a Xiangjiang household registration.”
“A Xiangjiang household registration,” Huo Ranyin murmured. “Just like Old Hu.”
Yes, just like Old Hu.
It was highly unlikely to be a coincidence.
“But Grandfather started becoming a bit muddled three years ago.” Ji Xun closed his eyes. The glass swayed in his hand; it didn’t look like he was swirling it, but rather as though the glass itself was struggling to break free from his grip. “I don’t know if I can find any clues…”
The icy light fell across Ji Xun’s face as he leaned against Huo Ranyin’s shoulder.
A kiss carrying the faint scent of alcohol brushed against his brow and eyelashes.
Huo Ranyin closed his eyes.
With a soft click, the wine glass Ji Xun was holding landed on the coffee table. Soon after, he was enveloped and pulled close as a dense web of kisses cascaded down, settling bit by bit over his eyelids.
Separated by only a thin layer of skin, everything could be felt clearly.
Ji Xun’s breath, Ji Xun’s warmth, Ji Xun’s desire, as well as Ji Xun’s trembling and fear.
The closer one got to the truth, the greater the fear became.
It was a familiar yet strange trembling originating from the person beside him—a fear capable of upending years of past perception.
Sometimes Huo Ranyin felt that he and Ji Xun were like two strangers crossing paths by chance in the wilderness. Amidst the chirping of insects, the hissing of snakes, the darkening sky, and the freezing frost, even though both knew clearly that countless secrets lay hidden within the other’s body, they feigned ignorance. In their hunger and cold, they paused before the same bonfire, doing everything they could to add fuel to the flames.
But the bonfire was unwilling to burn forever.
So while it was still warm…
Huo Ranyin wrapped his arms back around Ji Xun, becoming proactive and urgent.
Amidst the floating intoxication, the metallic tang of blood emerged.
People who were accustomed to the cold acted like wild beasts, biting open flesh and sucking blood just to obtain warmth.
When the sky was still dark and dim, Ji Xun had already gotten out of bed. Huo Ranyin was sleeping beside him, lying on his stomach with the blanket loosely draped around his waist and abdomen, exposing his upper back which still bore extensive scars.
It was a back that looked as though it had been branded with wild beast patterns.
Ji Xun pulled the blanket higher to conceal the scars.
He stepped off the bed noiselessly, tidied up the glasses and spilled alcohol scattered in the living room, retrieved a few changes of clothes from the bedroom to pack into his bag, and left the apartment. His first stop was his grandparents’ residence. He hadn’t visited them in a very long time—so long that he couldn’t remember when his last visit was, and so long that the elderly couple’s faces had become blurred in his memory.
This layer of fog-like blur finally dissipated once Ji Xun arrived at his grandparents’ home and saw them in person.
Even though it was still early, the old residential compound already had a steady stream of people moving about.
His grandparents lived on the first floor and had a tiny courtyard. When Ji Xun arrived, he spotted his grandfather sitting in a rocking chair in the yard, basking in the sun.
Grandfather looked similar to his memory: very thin, to the point where his skin clung tightly to his bones, just like the final memory Ji Xun’s younger sister, Ji Yu, had left behind.
Yet Grandfather also seemed a bit different from his memory. In his recollection, every time he came to his grandparents’ place with his parents and sister, Grandfather would always grab a handful of snacks for him and his sister—chocolates, biscuits, candies, and other sweet treats. It was always sweet things.
Savory meat-based snacks were never seen in Grandfather’s house, just as Grandfather was never seen reaching for meat dishes when everyone ate together.
But Grandfather was neither a monk nor a lay Buddhist practicing at home, so why was he unwilling to eat meat? Back then, their relationship with Grandfather was quite good. He had wanted to share the delicious things he ate with Grandfather… or perhaps it was just a child’s naughtiness… regardless, he had bought a meat pastry from the roadside, lied to Grandfather that it was a sugar pastry, and had him eat it.
Grandfather spat it out at the very first bite.
Following that, Grandfather, who had always been very gentle with them, flew into a furious rage and raised his hand as if to strike him.
Fortunately, his parents were in the living room and ran in upon hearing the commotion to calm Grandfather down, after which they hurriedly left.
Later, his mother taught him that not everyone could eat meat. In the hospital where she worked, there were people who, due to gallbladder issues, couldn’t eat a single bit of meat since birth; they would vomit the moment they consumed it. Grandfather was just such a person who never ate meat, and he must never give meat to Grandfather again.
He only half-understood it at the time. Having done a bad deed, he didn’t dare argue to her face, but he refuted it in his heart… Grandfather might have had gallbladder issues and couldn’t eat meat, but Grandfather had definitely eaten meat before. Otherwise, why would he tell Grandmother, “You overcooked the meat”?
After that incident occurred, he remained anxious for several days, constantly worried that Grandfather would dislike him from then on.
But the next time they visited, Grandfather seemed to have forgotten what happened previously. He remained affectionate toward him and still handed him a handful of candies.
The complete rift between the two families, which led to their estrangement, happened because of that incident with Ji Yu…
It wasn’t something from three years ago, but much earlier—back when Ji Yu underwent her heart transplant surgery.
Human memory is like an old book left on a shelf.
The exterior might look pristine, but only when one truly flips it open to read carefully does one discover that some inner pages have been water-stained, some scorched by fire, some eaten by insects, and others stuck together… Those people and events that were clearly experienced have to be pieced together bit by bit before they can gradually surface from the depths of the mind.
After Ji Yu’s heart transplant, he had encountered Grandfather at his home.
That was the first and only time Grandfather had ever stepped through their door. But he hadn’t come to visit the recuperating Ji Yu. Furious, Grandfather headed straight into the study with his father the moment he entered. The study door was closed, but the thin wooden door couldn’t block out Grandfather’s enraged voice at all.
It was impossible to imagine that such a frail and thin frame could burst into a furious roar capable of rattling the door and walls.
Grandfather was scolding his father, saying he shouldn’t have sought medical treatment for Ji Yu.
The specific reprimands had faded from Ji Xun’s mind with the passage of time. He only remembered that his mother had run into Ji Yu’s room the instant the angry shouting erupted, covering her sleeping sister’s ears. She had stared at the study for a long time, her expression as frozen and cold as an icicle on a tree branch.
Later, when they came out of the study, his father had injuries on his face; Grandfather had physically beaten his father…
Ji Xun had asked his mother why Grandfather had thrown such a massive tantrum.
His mother said at the time that it was because Grandfather didn’t like his sister and felt she was a girl, so they shouldn’t spend so much money on her. He wasn’t that small back then, and he subtly felt that perhaps the truth wasn’t quite what his mother claimed… Whenever he and his sister visited Grandfather’s house together, he had never seen Grandfather treat them with any distinction. He would get a handful of candies, and his sister would get a handful too. Grandfather would smile cheerfully, but he never hugged his sister, nor did he ever hug him.
Grandfather treated them with identical neutrality.
Ji Xun walked into the yard and crouched down in front of his grandfather.
He scrutinized his grandfather’s face, which was covered in age spots, his white undershirt, blue trousers, and black slippers.
“Grandfather, do you still remember me?” Ji Xun held the elderly man’s hand. “I am Xiao Xun, Ji Xun.”
The elderly man’s hand felt damp, carrying a peculiar moisture that seemed to come from nowhere.
He met the old man’s clouded eyes and heard him mutter, “Xun, Xun.”
He felt the joints of the old man’s wrists. On the same set of hands, the left wrist was a size thicker than the right, and his shoulder slanted to the left—slanting could slightly alleviate the pain of frozen shoulder on the left side.
For the first time, he was looking at his distant grandfather through the lens of a detective.
The answer surfaced naturally in his mind: Grandfather used to be a chef. He habitually used his left hand to toss the wok, which was why his wrist was thicker and why he had arthritis in his shoulder joint. This was also why, with a single glance, he knew Grandmother had overcooked the meat.
A chef who didn’t eat meat?
“Grandfather,” Ji Xun spoke again, “do you know A-Kun?”
A-Kun—Hu Kun. A man of similar age to you, who also holds a Xiangjiang household registration.
Grandfather: “Kun, Kun, Lu Kun.”
Ji Xun’s spirit jolted abruptly. But listening closely again, the sound rolling out from his grandfather’s throat wasn’t Hu Kun’s original name “Lu Kun” at all, but rather a phlegm-filled guttural rattle.
“…Xiao Xun?”
An elderly female voice suddenly echoed from ahead.
Ji Xun raised his head and called out, “Grandmother.”
Grandmother was a petite old lady standing at only 1.53 meters tall. Back when Grandfather was lucid and healthy, Grandmother stood beside him like a shadow, rarely speaking to his parents or to him and his sister. It was only when Grandfather began losing his clarity that Grandmother took charge of everything inside and outside the house, causing their contact to increase, though it still remained limited.
“What brings you over today?” Grandmother asked in bewilderment.
“I missed you both, so I came to visit,” Ji Xun said with a smile, helping his grandmother guide the sun-basking grandfather into the house.
At this stage, Grandfather was very compliant.
If told to stand up, he would stand; if told to walk inside, he would walk inside.
Upon entering the house, the rooms possessed the dimness characteristic of old-style architecture. The liver-colored cabinets and tables carried a thick ambiance of a bygone era. Grandmother retrieved a bowl from the wire-screen cupboard: “Have you eaten breakfast, Xiao Xun? You didn’t tell Grandmother in advance that you were coming. Grandmother has nothing here except pickled tubers. Shall I fry a couple of eggs for you?”
Before Ji Xun could answer, oil hit the pan, and the exhaust fan blades whirred to life, drawing out the aroma of food.
He smiled faintly. “Grandmother, don’t trouble yourself, I’ve already eaten. I came this time because I wanted to ask you a bit about Grandfather.”
“What is it?”
“Grandfather is originally from Fu Province, right? How did his Xiangjiang household registration come about?” Ji Xun inquired.
However, the elderly woman turned her head around and asked in a daze, “What do you mean? Isn’t your grandfather a native of Xiangjiang? Where did you hear that he’s from Fu Province?”
“…”
Ji Xun scrutinized his grandmother. The astonishment on the elderly woman’s face was genuine; this time, it wasn’t a lie.
Grandmother didn’t know Grandfather was from Fu Province.
Then where did I learn it from?
My parents?
No, his parents very rarely discussed Grandfather at home.
It was… it was a photograph kept inside a small mirror. Ji Xun remembered. In the third year of the cold war between his parents and Grandfather over Ji Yu, his parents had brought them to visit again. Grandfather stood at the door and didn’t step aside immediately; in the end, it was Grandmother who stepped forward, welcoming them inside with a smile. The wait for the reunion dinner that year was incredibly awkward; Grandmother prepared the food alone in the kitchen while their family stayed in the living room, and Grandfather hid himself in the study.
Everyone felt that Grandfather didn’t welcome them.
But later, Ji Xun had seen through the crack of the study door that Grandfather was sitting inside, holding a beautiful small mirror with an engraved silver shell.
Grandfather was weeping facing that mirror.
Not long after, the meal was ready, and Grandfather finally walked out of the study to sit at the table with everyone. Ji Xun took the opportunity to leave the dining table under the pretext of using the restroom, slipping into the study to locate Grandfather’s small silver-shelled mirror.
He discovered a photograph inside.
A black-and-white photo of a young Grandfather holding his father as an infant, standing at a pier.
The Grandfather back then didn’t possess his current frail and reserved look at all; he was still plump and sturdy, holding the infant so happily as if cradling the most precious gift in the world. Behind him, the corner of a banner was visible, printed with two yellow adhesive characters—”Fu Province.”
Right, no one had ever explicitly told him that Grandfather was from Fu Province.
But having seen that photograph during his childhood and hearing Grandfather’s Fu Province accent, he took it for granted that Grandfather was from Fu Province…
“Grandmother, how did you and Grandfather meet?” Ji Xun asked.
“How else could we meet? It was an introduction by the family. They said there was a young fellow from Xiangjiang with a good character who knew how to make money, and asked if I liked him,” Grandmother said with a smile. “Later we met, he took a liking to me, I took a liking to him, and we got together.”
“Have you two ever been to Fu Province?”
“Never.”
“Grandmother,” Ji Xun pondered for a moment, then added, “do you know Grandfather has a small silver-shelled mirror? The one with Father’s photo inside.”
“I remember it.” Grandmother let out an ‘oh’. “That’s your grandfather’s treasure. The more muddled he gets, the more he treasures it. It’s right in his clothes pocket, feel around for it.”
Ji Xun reached into the elderly man’s pocket and found the mirror from his memory in the right trouser pocket.
Perhaps because he carried it on his person every day and squeezed it from time to time, the mirror’s outer casing had become somewhat deformed; some of the finely engraved details had even broken. Ji Xun flipped the cover open, laying eyes on that photograph once more.
In the black-and-white photo, the young Grandfather held his father, standing before a harbor. Behind them lay a continuous expanse of moored vessels…
By the time Grandmother emerged from the kitchen carrying the fried eggs, Ji Xun was already preparing to leave.
The elderly woman appeared somewhat reluctant to see him go, but in the end, she didn’t voice any words of entreaty, merely saying, “You are young and busy with work. Don’t worry about us; I can manage everything at home. If anything happens, I’ll reach out to you.”
The bowl of fried eggs was placed in front of Grandfather.
Saliva trickled from the corner of Grandfather’s mouth.
In the past, Ji Xun felt that his grandmother, like his grandfather, maintained a strange sense of detachment toward their family, which was why he never proactively sought them out or stayed in touch much. They hadn’t even been willing to attend the funerals of his parents and Ji Yu.
But today he discovered that Grandmother missed him dearly; she was merely concealing a predicament he was unaware of.
After Ji Xun left, Grandmother used a spoon to feed Grandfather: “It’s neither a holiday nor a festival, why did Xiao Xun suddenly rush over?”
Grandfather: “Ah.”
Grandmother: “I know you don’t like him coming over, but how many years do we have left?”
Grandfather: “Mmh.”
Grandmother stared blankly. “Our son died and we couldn’t go send him off. Our grandson… at least our grandson is still alive and well, right? Can we really not interact with him?”
Grandfather made a throating rattle.
Grandmother shook her head. “You stubborn old man, you’ve gone muddled and understand nothing now. I can only listen to those inexplicable words from your past. He’s the last remaining sprout, we can’t afford to lose him.”
Finished with the feeding, she stood up, accidentally knocking down the mirror Grandfather treasured and clutched in his hand. The mirror dropped onto the floor and slid a short distance, landing precisely beneath Grandmother’s foot. Even though Grandmother saw it clearly, she was completely indifferent; stepping directly onto the mirror’s outer shell, she continued walking toward the kitchen.
The silver shell grew increasingly broken, a gap splitting open along its edge, revealing a trace of a white, bone-like substance inside.
The mobile phone placed by the bedside emitted a buzz, startling the person on the bed awake from their slumber. Perhaps because yesterday had drained too much energy, this awakening wasn’t as swift as usual. Instead, it resembled a process of slowly floating to the surface from the deep sea—a prolonged, dragging awakening.
Subsequently, Huo Ranyin opened his eyes.
He saw the text message on his phone. Ji Xun had just sent a brief summary of the information he obtained at his grandparents’ place:
“Confirmed that Grandfather lived in Fu Province for a considerable period before going to Xiangjiang and changing to a Xiangjiang household registration; Grandfather might know Hu Kun.”
There were no leads, only a few paragraphs of conclusions.
As well as the subsequent arrangement:
“I will drive to Fu Province later today.”
Driving.
Instead of taking the high-speed rail?
Driving was indeed more flexible and convenient… and also more covert and harder to track.
Huo Ranyin looked at it for a while, sat up from the bed, loosely gathered his nightrobe, and walked over to the window.
His mind had awakened, but his body hadn’t yet.
It seemed to linger in yesterday—a spell of soreness, a spell of tenderness, an electric numbness that persisted long on his skin, resembling the ripples of sparks sparked when Ji Xun’s fingers brushed against his skin, lingering and refusing to leave.
Leaning against the window, he typed out a message and sent it over: “Stay safe, keep in touch anytime.”
Ji Xun: “Yeah.”
Huo Ranyin’s finger slid past this line of reply, navigating to the phone dialer.
He dialed a person’s number.
After the dial tone rang out, the other party picked up.
“…Are you still within the country? If you are, I have a favor to ask of you.” Listening to the reply from the other end of the line, Huo Ranyin continued, “Fu Province. I need you to go to Fu Province to investigate a few things.”
“Yes, the friend you met last time went there too. I hope you won’t let him discover that you are there as well.”
Ji Xun’s face from last night surfaced before Huo Ranyin’s eyes.
A person’s appearance isn’t entirely unchangeable. When Ji Xun swirled his wine glass, the icy light had shimmered across his face as well; at that moment, Ji Xun’s face had undergone a subtle transformation, becoming unfamiliar and distant.
The ice from last night seemed to have entered Huo Ranyin’s eyes as well.
He spoke flatly:
“I don’t entirely trust him.”
“Thanks. I owe you one again, Yu Cisheng.”
