“Like what?” I ask.
“Just… you know, the safety, it is not so clear from results. We need more time to test. But there is a big rush to get this new rice into market.”
“Rice?” I fish through my backpack and grab the New Century Hero rice bag. “Like this one?” I toss it at him.
He puts down the teacup. Picks up the sack. Unfolds it. Studies the label.
“Yes, I think so. You see this?” He rises, comes over to where I sit on the couch, points to a string of letters and numbers in smallish print on the back of the sack. “With the ‘XE’? Stands for Hongxing and Eos.”
Hongxing = Red Star. And Eos… that’s the American company Jason has a bug up his ass about.
“So this rice… this is made by an American company?”
“In part. It is… a partnership. A joint venture. Hongxing is Chinese side, Hongxing Nongye Chanpin.” Han Rong bows his head. “This is company I work for.”
I try to figure it out. I wish I were smarter, or faster, or at least more awake. But I’m none of those things, so I just ask the stupid question:
“So how is David connected? Or am I wasting my time out here?”
Han Rong hesitates. “I come here, to Yangshuo, to get away from stressful situation. Enjoy time in nature. I meet Sparrow and David at the Gecko. We begin to talk, about problems in the environment. You know, China’s environmental problems are relatively serious,” he adds earnestly.
No shit, I think. “Yeah, so I hear.”
“I start to talk to David, about my work, about the concerns I have,” he continues. “David is very knowledgeable on this subject. Especially about our American partner, Eos. He tell me he is involved before in criticizing their activities. He tell me also they are very dangerous. They have spies who work for them, who can cause trouble for people. That’s why… that’s why I look in your things.”
“ ’Cause you thought I might be a spy for Eos?” I laugh. “Right. Like if I were a spy, I’d leave the evidence in my bag for you to find.”
Kang Li slams his beer bottle down on the desk. “Why didn’t you tell me about any of this?” he says to Sparrow in Mandarin, and he sounds pretty pissed off.
“Because you like to talk too much,” she snaps back. “You go on Weibo, go on Youku, you say whatever you think, you don’t care if you get in trouble-”
“I’m not going to get in trouble-”
“You don’t know that! Besides, sometimes you can accomplish more by saying less.”
“I’m not criticizing the government! I’m talking about protecting the natural environment!”
“Sometimes I also think you are completely naïve.”
“No one can say anything,” Han Rong announces in English, sounding anxious. “Not yet. Not until we have proof.”
“Proof of what?” I ask.
“Many GMOs not approved for use in China,” Sparrow explains. “Han Rong thinks Hongxing and Eos selling them anyway. This Hero Rice.”
“This company, this New Century Seeds, it’s not a legal company. Not registered,” Han Rong says. “Hongxing and Eos set this up to sell seeds, get them in the marketplace.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Because once GMO rice in the environment, easier to get official approval. It is like… how do you say?” Han Rong smiles. “Easier to beg forgiveness than ask permission.”
“They can say, ‘Look, this product is being used, there are no problems,’ ” Sparrow tells me. “Even though we can’t say for certain if there are long-term bad effects or not.”
“And if there is contamination, if farmers grow this rice by mistake, then Hongxing and Eos can say, ‘We own these seeds,’ ” Han Rong adds. “ ‘This… product.’ ”
I think about this. “Wait a second. You work for these guys. And you don’t have proof?”
Han Rong’s eyes do this little shifty thing, just for an instant, but I catch it.
“I don’t have it,” he says.
“And you can’t get it?”
“I can’t be involved,” he says frantically. “You know how things are in China. My company has government connections. They can cause a lot of trouble for me. Besides,” he adds in a low voice, like a cartoon conspirator, “is much easier to pressure the foreign partner.”
Eos.
I’m starting to get it.
“So you told David about the project. You gave him the information about the fake companies.”
He smiles, a big beaming one, and nods. “Because David is foreigner. He says he can talk to foreign media. Help put pressure on Eos.”
“Jesus Christ,” I mutter. Of all the things Jason could and should be doing, going after his old nemesis, in China, is pretty much the opposite of a good idea.
The kid is obsessed. Completely out of his mind. And this guy Han Rong took advantage of it.
For some kind of noble goal?
I don’t know. Color me suspicious.
“Where’s David now?”
Han Rong shakes his head. “Don’t know. Last I hear, he go to Guiyu. Since then nothing.”
I glance over at Kang Li and Sparrow. She sits there, eyes downcast, seeming to stare at her hands clasped in her lap.
“You should have told me,” Kang Li tells her in Chinese, glowering. He stands, pounds down the last slug of his beer, and stalks out.
Sparrow sighs. “Maybe,” she mumbles.
SO AFTER THAT I sleep. I mean, might as well. If I’m being played by Han Rong, I figure he’s already made his move. “Good night,” he said after Kang Li flounced off, trailed by Sparrow a few minutes later.
“What are you doing here?” I asked him.
Han Rong smiled at me, bobbed his head. “Just taking a rest. Helping with the birds.”
Right.
WAY, WAY TOO EARLY, Boba sticks his beak in my ear. Makes little chuckling noises. Kind of like a giant white chicken rooting for seeds. Or bugs.
“Shit, bird,” I mutter.
Not that it really matters, because a few minutes after that, Sparrow creeps in. Okay, “creeps” isn’t fair. She’s not being sneaky, I don’t think-she’s just light on her feet, someone whose footsteps don’t echo.
“Zao hao. You want tea? Nescafé?”
“Nescafé. Thanks.”
By the time Sparrow brings me a chipped mug full of caffeine, sugar, and non-dairy creamer, Kang Li has shuffled in, scratching and yawning.
“Zao hao,” he mumbles, taking a seat in the decaying armchair. The fabric used to be some sort of gold brocade, blackened now and worn out in places, with hints of stuffing peeking through the frayed threads.
I look for hints about what happened between them after their fight last night, and I can’t really tell.
“Good morning,” I repeat.
I sip my Nescafé, they have their tea, and none of us says anything for a while.
“Can we give you a ride anywhere?” Sparrow finally asks.
I think about this. “Thank you,” I say. “Maybe back to my hotel. If you don’t mind.”
KANG LI VOLUNTEERS TO drive me. But first he needs to see to the cats and do a few other chores. “No problem,” I tell him. It would be nice if we could make it to Yangshuo before noon so I can save myself another day’s charge at Maggie’s, but it’s not going to break me if we don’t.
Sparrow, meanwhile, checks on the birds needing special treatment in the main farmhouse.
I follow along behind her.
She crouches down at the cage with the injured cormorant, the fishing bird with the infected neck. “How is he doing?” I ask.
She sighs and shakes her head. “Maybe not so good.”
“I’m sorry,” I say.
I watch as she reaches in and grasps the bird at the base of its skull, applies some kind of ointment to its oozing neck, squirts something-water? medicine?-down its gullet with a plastic syringe, coaxes it to eat what smells like mashed-up fish. The bird lowers its head, like it’s embarrassed, not willing to eat.