But the manager was just as angry himself. "You can have whatever ceremony you want, but don't start any fires!" he yelled. "If the turf is ruined, are you guys going to pay for it?"
Both sides continued to jostle and shout at each other until they had left the stadium, each saying they would be speaking with the university president to get the matter straightened out. Thus the ceremony ended, leaving only Qu Weiqiang's half-burned jersey smoking sadly on a patch of scorched turf. Glancing back at the ceremonial table, where Qu Weiqiang's picture had been knocked over in the confusion, Fang Mu laughed bitterly, and then followed the crowd out of the stadium.
Returning to his dorm, he was surprised to find Tai Wei sitting on his bed reading a book. At this point Fang Mu still bore a bit of a grudge against Tai Wei from last time, so he just ignored him.
But Tai Wei didn't seem to care. Grinning at him, he said, "Where have you been? I've been waiting for you all day."
"Is there something you wanted to say to me?" Fang Mu asked coldly. Still, in the back of his mind he felt a shiver of fear. What had happened now?
"Oh, nothing in particular. The bureau just sent us down here to investigate a case, so I figured I'd stop by and say hi."
"What are they doing sending you here?" Fang Mu paused to think for a moment. "Not for that double homicide? A case like that wouldn't normally belong to the vice squad."
"You really know a lot kid," Tai Wei said, chuckling. "Actually, that case belongs to the State Enterprise and Nonprofit Institution Investigative Division. When I heard some of them were heading down here to look things over, I decided to tag along. So how's it going? You doing all right?"
"I'm fine; thanks for asking," said Fang Mu brusquely, as he sat down in his desk chair.
Tai Wei laughed. "You're still mad at me, huh?" He asked, not seeming to mind at all. "I admit that what I did was perhaps a little bit less than ideal, but I figured that if I couldn't give you an award, then at least you should get some commendation from your school. I was taking a risk, too, you know. If the director finds out he's going to hit the roof."
"For a moron like you, getting yelled at is a good thing." As soon as the words left Fang Mu's mouth, he couldn't help but laugh.
Tai Wei laughed as well, and then said, "It's actually not what you think. For some reason, the bureau director doesn't want you to participate in our investigations."
Fang Mu was about to ask why when Tai Wei pulled an envelope out of his bag.
"As for the reason I came, this letter's for you." He handed Fang Mu the envelope. Then his eyes narrowed and his expression grew serious. "It's from Ma Kai."
Fang Mu had been about to take the letter when he heard Ma Kai's name. Without meaning to, he drew his hand back and hesitated for a moment. At last he reached out and took it.
It was a white envelope of the most common variety. Nothing was written on the outside; no recipient, no sender. The letter inside didn't seem particularly thick, and when Fang Mu held the envelope in his fingers it felt light enough to float away. Turning it over, he saw the envelope wasn't sealed.
"I swear on Chairman Mao I never read it," said Tai Wei. Then seeing the look in Fang Mu's eyes, he continued, "Ma Kai gave it to me and now I'm giving it to you; that's all."
He watched Fang Mu stare blankly at the envelope in his hands. "Well," he said, "you're not going to read it?"
Fang Mu didn't respond. He just kept staring at the envelope, not moving a muscle. Ma Kai, what did you want to tell me?
Seeing that Fang Mu wasn't going to say anything, Tai Wei lost interest, stood up and said goodbye. Fang Mu still said nothing. When Tai Wei reached the door, he suddenly turned around.
"Ma Kai has already been sentenced to immediate execution," said Tai Wei. "He didn't try to appeal. Barring anything unexpected, he'll be executed this Thursday at dawn." Then he nodded at Fang Mu, opened the door and left.
The late-night rooftop was bathed in mist. There was no moon or stars above, only the dark canopy of heaven. The wind was strong, blowing the rooftop sand in all directions with a sound like soft footsteps.
Fang Mu stood at the edge of the roof, silently gazing at the pitch-black campus. It felt as if he were standing before an endless abyss. He glanced at his watch. It was already 2:30 in the morning. Ma Kai, he thought, has your execution already begun?
He looked as far as he could into the distance, his ears straining to catch any sound. Somewhere in the darkness ahead, Ma Kai was being led out of a police car. Maybe there was another prisoner with him, maybe he was alone. But either way, this was the end of the road.
…Ahead of him was a shallow sandpit. He knelt in it, feeling sharp bits of gravel press painfully against his knees. Three judicial policemen stood behind him, leveling fully-automatic Type 81 rifles at the back of his head, while 600 feet back, members of the People's Armed Police gripped Type 54 pistols, safeties off, and waited silently for the execution team to fire. In an instant his world would disappear, the good and the bad, things owed and things lent. All debts would be settled…
Fang Mu knew he would never hear the gunshot, but still he waited for the sound, his whole body taut.
And yet he himself wasn't even sure that's what he really wanted.
Suddenly, Fang Mu no longer knew how he felt about Ma Kai. Was he a homicidal maniac who deserved to be hacked to pieces, or just a poor sick man?
Without a doubt, Ma Kai had a very serious mental illness, but according to Chinese penal code, this had not affected his judgment or self-control in the least. Therefore, he bore full responsibility for his crimes and needed to accept the legal consequences.
Fang Mu saw Ma Kai's face. There was no trace of anger in his eyes, only fear and despair. He looked like some pitiful animal caught in a maze: smashing into walls, crying, bleeding from the head, trying desperately to get out. But there was no exit, and no one was coming to save him. Blood was the sweetest curse. Drinking it, he'd felt as if he'd gained something, though in fact he'd lost it forever. Fang Mu imagined Ma Kai waking exhaustedly from some unknown dream in that small room on North Evergreen Street, where the shades were drawn day and night. Opening his eyes, would he rejoice at being alive to see another day, or merely remind himself that his own death was soon at hand?
Wait a second; am I sympathizing with this guy?
Shaking his head, Fang Mu forced these thoughts from his mind.
Listen, that man was a crazed killer and you're a normal guy. You should be cursing him to hell!
But then, why am I standing here?
It was already 3:30 in the morning when, sighing, Fang Mu picked up a black plastic bag and then, as usual, walked over to the small sand pile on the northeast corner of the roof.
Once the fire had begun to burn, black pieces of ash floated into the air, fell, and then struggled aloft once more. Finally they spun out in all directions, settling softly and soundlessly on every dark corner of the rooftop.
Fang Mu took the still unread letter out of his pocket. He had originally wanted to say something, but when he opened his mouth nothing came out, so he simply tossed it on the fire and watched it twist in the flames. Soon the paper was ashes, no different than all the rest, and then picked up by the wind, they floated away.