‘You’re wrong. I have no secrets. It’s your own imagination.’ Mengliu smiled, stroking the head of the instrument. ‘On the contrary, what was on my mind just now was a surgical procedure,’ and he described the whole process, every bloody detail. They all listened quietly, none of them in the least horrified. He, on the other hand, was uncomfortable. He was remembering how he had caused Jia Wan’s death with his own hand, and how he had harboured hatred toward him in his mind, a so-called poet who had sold out his friend for glory. A scumbag who had used poetry to cheat on a girl’s affections, and in the year of the Round Square incident acted as a mole, betraying people in the Wisdom Bureau. But what was really dirty was the government who awarded Jia Wan the supreme poetry prize — that was equivalent to a public reward for a lackey, and a contemptuous insult to all poets. Thinking of this, Mengliu had become emotional. But he quickly recovered, fleeing behind the safety of the walls he’d erected around himself.
After their brief alliance, the three women went back to their own concerns. Only the crackle of the fire could be heard. There was a trace of hostility in the atmosphere, and the wind outside was whistling and sharp, distant and sorrowful like a wolf on the prowl. Inside it was like an oil painting in a warm hue; the non-living and the living alike were quiet. Yuyue burped softly, then quickly covered her mouth. Juli stood up and began to clear the dishes. Suitang helped to empty the rubbish into the bin. Suddenly, they all found something to busy themselves with.
Mengliu thought of the journey to the nursing home the following day. Would Suitang or Yuyue be the lookout? Yuyue’s mother was inside, so it stood to reason that she should go in, but Suitang thought that Yuyue, being from Swan Valley, should be the lookout. If something happened, people would believe her. She and Mengliu were both outsiders — if they disappeared, so what? But Yuyue insisted she wanted to go in, saying that the plan had been hatched before Suitang had arrived. ‘It’s my mother who is in there, not yours.’ They were like children bickering over a sweet.
But only two people could sit in the cable car.
In the end it was Juli who came up with a solution. When she had cleaned up, she cut two small pieces of paper, wrote on them, crumpled them up, and then like a general presiding over a meeting said, ‘You two draw lots to determine who will go and who will stay.’
The scheme worked, leaving neither girl with anything to say. They reached out to draw lots, each took a small ball of paper. Just as they did so Shanlai came into the room, his body emitting a chill and his face blue.
‘Señor Esteban has gone to the nether world.’
His weird expression made it appear that he was joking. Those in the room looked down at him in surprise.
‘He was lying there, and no matter how I called, he wouldn’t wake up.’ Shanlai looked at his feet. His pudgy shoes were embedded in circles of mud, making them look even clumsier. He raised his head and looked at them again and said boldly, ‘He’s dead…really dead.’
The house was like a grave. Then the commotion began.
Five minutes later, everyone left. The snow crunched under their feet as they ran toward the mill.
23
Mengliu didn’t sleep a wink all night. Time flowed from the rising sun, and stopped at eight o’clock. According to Yuyue’s news, Michael would be leaving on the cable car at twelve, escorted by a male underling. Again and again, Mengliu imagined the scene. They would lurk around, waiting, their faces hidden behind black cloths, just like in a movie. If necessary, they would carry small arms, ready to stun or kill the underling, then rescue Michael and tell him that going to the nursing home was certain death. Michael would be so frightened by the sudden turn of events that he wouldn’t resist. Completely misunderstanding Mengliu, he would stammer, and say he could go back to the hospital and do whatever was required of him — he was not a man who liked leisure. He would slap his arms and legs, and show how robust his body was. He would tremble and beg for mercy. Mengliu would have to knock him unconscious, just to shut him up, and then drag him into the bushes. In his own imaginings Mengliu was a tall and powerful figure, cool in his fighting moves as he dealt with the monsters around him. But in reality, when he saw the sun rising over the windowsill, he grew nervous. He didn’t want to resort to violence. He preferred to settle it all with a civilised conversation. He had no confidence in a fight.
Today Esteban would be transported to the mountain. His attitude toward atoning for his sin and his bravery would earn him a high-level snow burial, and all charges of wrong-doing would be expunged at the funeral. He was an intellectual of Swan Valley, and would be placed in a three-inch-thick ice coffin. A snow tomb would be erected, along with a giant ice sculpture for a tombstone. In good weather, everyone would be able to see the tombstone on the peak from the foot of the mountain, like a shining sword.
The previous night Shanlai had stayed at the mill while the others returned to Juli’s house, where they alternated between sharing their memories of the deceased and moments of respectful silence. The glory of the dead had nothing to do with Juli’s fate, and the law wouldn’t spare the child in her belly. It would have to undergo the alcohol test as if nothing had happened. She was very confident and persuasion was useless. She was the only one who slept that night, and in the morning, full of energy, she made eggs and pancakes and porridge for breakfast, without any sign of grieving for her lost love. Mengliu, smelling the aromas from the kitchen as he went through his morning ablutions, thought of the war games that were soon to come. He was surprised at the murderous expression in the eyes of the man who looked back at him from the mirror, hovering above his overnight beard, below his shiny forehead. Maybe he should do as Suitang had said and carry a dagger and pepper spray with him, in case words didn’t work. Yuyue said it was best to use an anaesthetic, since it wasn’t life-threatening. ‘If he says anything, just poke it up his arse, and he’ll really sleep. Or use a brick and knock him out.’
Before leaving, Mengliu embraced Juli. ‘Farewell,’ he said, hoping she would survive her plight.
When they departed, the funeral procession was crawling slowly across the side of the hill. If it hadn’t been for the shadows it cast on the snow, it would not have been easy to see the pure white procession. They had no doubt that it included Shanlai and Darae. The sun-kissed snow was dazzling. Mengliu, Yuyue and Suitang looked dignified in their sunglasses. Their consultations complete, they were ready to act according to plan, and didn’t speak as they travelled. Walking quickly, they reached their destination at ten o’clock. From far away, they saw the cable car on the peak opposite, like a bird cage hanging on a thin wire. It was skirted on both sides by cliffs. Below was a bottomless pit of silence. The dense virgin forest was still full of life in the piercing cold.
Mengliu’s calves and stomach had turned to jelly, and Suitang was having doubts about the thin wires.
Yuyue said proudly, ‘If anyone wants out, it’s not too late to go back. There is no way out once you’re on the cable car.’ She underestimated Suitang, who was not the least bit intimidated.
They hid themselves in the bushes like cats.
‘A fire in the snow would be good right now.’ They had already digested their breakfast and began to feel less and less able to fight the cold. Suitang was so cold she kept thinking of the hypothetical fire. ‘If we could roast some wild game…this would be a really nice trip.’
‘If you come back alive, I’ll go with you on a camping trip in the snow.’ Yuyue pointed off into the distance, as if coaxing a child, then adjusted her artificial leg to a more comfortable position before continuing. ‘We’ll have a huge camp fire, roast a wild rabbit, and a pheasant, grill mushrooms, barbecue pork…ah! Then we can drink some wine, you know, to warm ourselves up. We’ll lie in the snow under the stars, tell ghost stories…’ As she whetted Suitang’s appetite, she was herself moved by her wonderful descriptions. Staring at the other two intently, she said with great seriousness, ‘I’ll be here waiting for you. Don’t you two run away. Be sure to come back!’