“Another kind deed,” Zhuang said before going to see the old lady, who naturally started ranting about the events of the night before. His interest piqued, he asked for details, telling Liu Yue he wanted to write a series of magic realist novels, which meant nothing to the girl, who made a pot of tea and sent it into the study. Zhuang was barely into the third sheet when he heard the old lady tell Liu Yue that someone was knocking on the door. She went to the door, but the old lady stopped her from opening it.
“Don’t,” she said. “Last night I thought it was someone I knew, but you said no one was out there, so it must have been a demon. Why keep knocking at our door? Don’t open it. No matter what, don’t open the door.” Then she shut the windows in her room and drew the curtains before shutting her daughter’s bedroom door and telling Liu Yue to shut the kitchen windows. She refused because she was cooking, and that led to an argument. Frustrated, she went into the study to talk to Zhuang, who went to talk to his mother-in-law.
“On a hot day you have to keep the windows open, Mother, or the house will be too stuffy.”
“Won’t that thing come in through the window if it can’t open the door?” she asked, keeping her voice low. “Hot, you say? How hot can it be?” She licked her finger and touched Zhuang’s nipples under his shirt, but when she moved on to Liu Yue, the girl blushed and held her hands in front of her chest.
“There’s no need to be afraid in broad daylight,” Zhuang said. “Come on, I’ll go with you to see who’s knocking. If it’s a demon, I’ll cut it down to size.” He took an exercising sword down from the wall.
The three of them walked up to the door, and Zhuang opened it. Nothing stirred on the other side. The old lady took a careful look and fixed her gaze on the door.
“See there!” she called out. “Those really are ox demons and snake spirits, straight from the Cultural Revolution.”
“Where? What?” Liu Yue asked.
“That’s an ox and that’s a snake, a two-tailed snake,” the old lady said. “What’s this? I’ve never seen anything this strange, with two horns and eight legs. This one’s human, with long teeth. Another human here, with a pig’s head.”
Zhuang saw nothing, but a chill rose inside when he recalled the photos they had taken together.
“It’s obvious to me, why can’t you see anything?” the old lady said. “They must have imprinted their shadows on the door when they came knocking. Can’t you see them either, Liu Yue? Can’t you see the images? Can’t you tell that this door is thicker than it was before? It’s thicker with all those layers of their shadows.”
With a shake of his head, Zhuang could tell that the old lady was sliding back again. He was also thinking that those defective photos must have resulted from a problem with the camera or a mistake in the developing room. Liu Yue, who was watching him the whole time, was relieved when she saw him shake his head. “The door is thicker, Aunty,” she said with a giggle as she looked away.
“Yes, it is, Mother,” Zhuang echoed. “Now stay inside and don’t worry. Nothing can happen with Liu Yue and me here.” He returned to his study and resumed writing.
The old lady was agitated the rest of the day, going frequently to the study to tell Zhuang that someone was knocking again or that they should not open the windows. He was clearly annoyed, and when his wife came home, he told her that he could not get anything done at home. She went in and complained to her mother, only to have the old lady insist that they go see the monk in the temple for another amulet. Zhuang phoned Meng Yunfang, who came over with a paper amulet, which he pasted on the doorframe. Meng told Zhuang that Huiming had drawn the amulet, not Abbot Zhixiang at the Yunhuang Temple.
“Tomorrow is Huiming’s first day as the head of the nunnery. She asked me to invite some writers and artists to take part in the festivities. Want to come along?”
“So Huiming is taking over.”
“That little nun is very accomplished. She can do pretty much anything she wants to. If she were in politics, she could very well be a vice mayor.”
“I’m actually worried that she’ll return to secular life one day.” Zhuang smiled at Meng.
“What do you mean?”
Zhuang just smiled, then changed the subject. “Let me have the key,” he said, lowering his voice. “I’m going over there to write.”
“That place is wonderful. There’s no one to bother you. I made another key, so you can keep this one.”
“I’m going out with Meng Laoshi,” Zhuang said to Liu Yue. “I may be back tonight, but if not, I’ll be at his place. Tomorrow morning the new head of the nunnery will assume her position, and we’re invited to attend the celebration. Tell your dajie that I have to attend, since the city’s leaders will be there.”
After walking through the gate, Meng asked, “Why won’t you be back tonight?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“What do I do if Yueqing calls and asks to speak with you?”
“Just tell her we’re working on an article. Did you finish that one for the mayor?”
“It’s done. I already sent it to him for his approval.”
“He’ll know all about it once it’s published.”
They said good-bye, and Zhuang headed straight for Tang Wan’er’s house.
She was packing when he surprised her by striding in, proof that his foot had healed.
“You came as soon as your foot was better,” she remarked with a clap of her hands. Zhuang went up to kiss her. “Where else would I go for my first stop?”
After making him a cup of coffee, Wan’er stuck her head out the door to look up and down the street.
“Come sit down and talk to me. What are you looking for?”
“Zhou Min went to buy toothpaste. Why is it taking him so long? When he comes home, I’ll send him out to buy a roasted chicken.”
“I don’t want any roasted chicken. I want tongue.”
“You’re so bad. I’m not going to give you any.” She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. “We can’t today,” she said softly. “He’ll be back soon. He said the magazine is sending him on an overnight trip to Xianyang to help sell the latest issue. An order from on high told them to destroy all copies of the magazine. About eighty percent were sold to retailers, so they’re sending people out of town to help sell the rest and avoid a huge loss of revenue.”
“When will he be back?”
“Tomorrow around noon. I said, ‘Why not spend another day in Xianyang and take in the sights?’ but he said it was Mr. Zhong’s idea, and that could cause problems if people in the Department of Culture got wind of it.”
“This is a godsend. Come to room 13 on the fifth floor in the building to the left of the nunnery. I’ll wait for you there.”
“Whose house is that?”
“Ours when we’re there.” He got up to leave. After he left, she washed the coffee mug and hastily put her stuff in a bag before searching in the wardrobe for her new skirt.
. . .
At dinner that night, Liu Yue said to Niu Yueqing, “Is Zhuang Laoshi really not coming home again tonight?”
“He can go wherever he likes over the next few days. Meng Yunfang is such a show-off that your Zhuang Laoshi has to spend the night whenever he’s there.”
“Does Meng Laoshi have a big enough place for that?”
“Who cares?” Niu Yueqing sighed. “We’ve run into some bad luck this year, with all sorts of unpleasant things. His birthday is next Wednesday. In our family, we only celebrate my mother’s birthday. But this year I’ve been thinking about a celebration. Maybe the festivity of a birthday party can wash away the bad luck.”
Sensing Niu Yueqing’s determination, Liu Yue added her thoughts: “It’s so weird. The magazine was only trying to promote Zhuang Laoshi, and Zhou Min wanted to repay his kindness. How could a simple article cause so much trouble with Jing Xueyin? Before that was over, he hurt his foot in a fall, but he has never had a single accident on his scooter. Most people recover quickly from something like that, but he hobbled for days and days. Then the trouble with the secretary-general came just when his foot was getting better. Don’t you think that’s weird? The old mistress’s odd behavior is nothing new, but Zhuang Laoshi has changed. He’s no longer as easygoing as when I first got here.”